Fall From Grace
by Stretch1
Summary: After years of destroyed consciences, Dusk and Relic struggle for redemption when old evils haunt their every move. (R later for language)
1. Night Shift

Smoke loomed overhead, eyes fixed on nothing in particular as he prepared his mind for the next job. His job. As long as he got paid for it, he didn't care. It was a living, a way to get by. Only, there was always the nightmares, the guilt gnawing at him from all sides. Cracking his neck, he inhaled the smoke deep into his lungs once more before slowly rising to his feet and paying the tab.

For as long as he could remember, this had been his life. Well, in truth, that was a lie; he preferred to state simply he had been born into this life and was forced to live it until it killed him. However, he could remember a time of general happiness, or at least being content. His mother was alive, her willowy figure still breathing, still full of life. Almost as if a memory instead of a dream, he could see his parents as they would be now, his sister as she would have grown to.

No. This wasn't his life now. Childbirth pushed his mother's small form too far, the child too weak to breathe the industrial smoke it was exposed to. The child's starved lungs gave way, as did Adamina Samson, her gaze far away, her ivory skin cold to the touch. So much for their happy life, the time spent where his father would sing to his mother, where they would dance around the livingroom, where they were so perfectly happy with each other despite the poverty surrounding them and religious persecution they faced for the simple fact they were Jewish. His life had been ripped away from him, torn out of his grasp with only a void to fill and an anger to direct somewhere, anywhere.

Heading out into the dampened, darkened streets, he dropped the cigarette an crushed it beneath his heel. As the nicotine and adrenaline pumped through his veins, it was all he could do to stomach what he knew he was going to do, what he felt he had to do. This was his choice, always been his choice, and for what? He didn't even know anymore. It was now blind habit, no longer had meaning. It was just a matter of going through the motions now.

What happened to the obedient little Jewish boy who hunched over his studies day and night all week without a complaint? The memory of him died when the child on the playground hit the brick wall, his face being punched repeatedly in retribution for saying "kike" one too many times. There was far too much space to be filled with vengeance with a reason he had lost years ago. It wasn't society's fault his happy ending was scratched before the beginning had even had a chance to get rolling, and it was no one's fault but his own that he was lost in an endless series of gang hits and paybacks.

He could still remember how it felt when Mallet Murphy taught him how to swing a punch, how to throw his knuckles into a guy's jaw hard enough to make his eyes roll back and make him swear he saw God. Hours were spent to prepare Joshua Samson for any fight he may come up to, and how to win it. All signs of weakness left him within months, and only a tendril of a conscience remained, perhaps the broken corpses of his faith keeping it company before they both withered away completely.

Almost laughing at the memories, Josh turned another corner, heading for the address given to him. Don't ask any questions, just do the job you were paid to do and move on. Simple enough. No, it wasn't that simple, there was so much more to it, so many more emotions involved that couldn't be expressed because the mere idea of it could get a person shot. Lighting another cigarette to calm the inevitable nerves he hid with an arched eyebrow and a sneer.

His friends for years had watched helplessly as he sank more and more into the life he had created for himself for a revenge that he could never grasp. Family and those that might as well be opened their mouths before their own thoughts shut them up again, knowing full well he had to work things out on his own, and hopefully before being the headline in a newspaper. They didn't know what he did anyway, the extent of it, the horrendous facts. Had they, more would have flown from their mouths than silence and the occasional sigh. No, he kept it hidden. Well hidden.

As he looked up at the worn, shell of what had been a factory at some point, he put the cigarette out on paint chipped walls and ducked inside. He was getting too old for this. His childhood had already been lost, so why continue until there was nothing left for him period? Simple habit, he supposed, as the broken glass beneath his boots cracked against the cold cement. What other reason was there save for simple routine, and ignorance to anything better at this point.

On the one hand, he had worked hard for the life he had now and the respect he had gotten. On the other, what life was this where the only respect earned was that of pimp, whores, and thieves? Murders bowed to him and yet he was supposed to see himself in high esteem because of this? The thought made him feel dirty, almost turn back and throw the few dollars he would get for this task to the ground and walk off. There was something keeping him, though. Something always keeping him.

Tied to a chain, his skin raw and bleeding from the ropes binding him there, sat another man with a broken word. Picking up the pipe from the ground, another cheap weapon to drive the point home, no words were exchanged. Even if the man's mouth hadn't been gagged, the Jewish child turned gang hitman wouldn't have known what to say, how to even start. Fingering the cold metal, the man's face blurred into dozens of people he had done the same thing to, depending on their crime toward the specific gang. It never mattered anymore, because it all ended the same way. No death, but a longing for it, on both ends.

Raising the pipe high, Joshua "Dusk" Samson brought the cold weight down mercilessly on the man's thigh, barely registering the yell that followed. Like he had said to himself so many times before, this was a job. His job. He brought it down for his mother and the pain her body suffered for only showing kindness to the world and bestowing naught but happiness to himself and his father. He brought it down for his sister who died in his arms two hours after her birth. Each hit resonated in the walls that held the broken equipment and gang members to whatever gang he was serving for the night.

He felt like a common whore these men were using, only useful for the dirty work he did for them. It was his fault, and he brought the pipe down again, seeing each one of their faces as they sneered at the victim and clapped at his progress. This was the life he had made for himself, and down came the metal once more in an effort to suppress that thought. As the man before him cried desperately, Dusk ended his assault, worn from the emotional battle that had numbed him to the actual task. Quick as it began, it was over. Just like that. Until the next night, the next job.


	2. Another Whiskey Night

This chapter brought to you by the wonderful Relic! Enjoy!

* * *

Sitting at the bar, swirling the remaining drops of what was once a full mug of some vile alcohol, she allowed her mind to once again get hazy, as it had done so many nights before. Every night, lately, in fact. In the morning, with an empty bottle in her hand and throbbing in her temples, she'd explain again to inquiring voices that these nightly excursions were coming to an end; that she was done with drinking on the whole. But really, she knew as well as they did that that was untrue.

Love did strange things to people. That was a lesson she'd learned early on; the one she'd never forget. People put love before anything else… and her, she loved the bottle. While most used hard liquor to escape from their demons, she was quite the opposite; at night, with her blood raging and her head spinning and empty glasses surrounding her, she could finally face them.

It was hard, walking through the days as a coward, afraid to slow down for fear of what memories chased behind her. At night, drunk, she could truly face them, for even when they proved to be too much, she'd not remember come morning. Some people would have called it weak, certainly, this little game she played. They would have been right. The past was not meant to be buried; it had a way of unexpectedly popping up. The best thing to do was simply to face them, head-on. But there were just _so many_… So many of him.

Like she always said, love did strange things. Worse, love couldn't be ignored; at least, with her, it couldn't. She had found a man and loved him to the very depths of her young heart… and it had shaded her view of his true form. Ben. Even the name alone brought about a slew of memories.

Love always betrayed her; with him, it had been no different. Hundreds of bruises and broken bones, as well as a loss of innocence had resulted from his 'love' for her; and it was her 'love' for him that dragged her back, night after night. But what had led her to him in the first place?

_"You remind me of him," she stated, a rare giggle escaping her lips as her companion continued to kiss along her neck._

_He stopped in his ministrations, pausing to glance up at her and raise an eyebrow, obviously displeased. "Of who?"_

_Realizing how that must have sounded, she blanched slightly at his frown. "My brother. I mean, not, you know, when you do _that_, but how strong you are, and how good, I guess."_

_"You don't talk about him much," he said, sounding almost curious (which, for him, was unusual) as he sat upright on the couch they had been previously sprawled over. _

_"There's not much to say," she replied simply, shrugging. "Just… I loved him. And I just see so much of him, in you. Maybe that's part of why I love you, too."_

Not much to say. Right. She snorted slightly, pushing her empty mug away and signaling for another. There was too much to say, really. She supposed much of her troubles came from her brother, Carter; in the end, most of it came right back to him. But after what he had done, how could it not?

She hadn't always been bar-hopping street trash, not that one could ever tell from looking at her. Once, she'd been well-off; a schoolgirl with a future, that's what she'd been. Perhaps that was what had made the path that life had pushed her down so much more difficult; the damn irony of it all.

It had started out so well, her life; she really couldn't pinpoint the exact moment it all began to unravel. Her mother had never too much cared for her, and her father spent months at a time away from home, but she wasn't greedy; it was a good life, and she liked it just fine. Her brother provided all the parenting she needed, anyway, and between he and her best friend, she had everything she needed to be content in her life. That was, until the day...

She still didn't much understand the events that occurred. Then again, she supposed coming home to the mutilated bodies of a person's parents wasn't something most people would really be able to understand. And her brother, her brother of all people had done it… and her best friend had always known, and hadn't told her. As far as she was concerned, she had every damn right in the world to sit at a barstool every night, half-drunk and confused.

_"I thought my brother was dead for almost half my life, and you knew all along! You knew he was alive; and worse, you knew what he'd done!" she pointed an accusatory finger at her best friend, Chad, who sighed in exasperation._

_"The only way he'd agree to stay away from you is if I gave you his letters, and that's the only reason I know. I was doing what was best for you; how much does it help you, knowing that he's the bastard that killed your parents, huh? That he was crazy? It doesn't help you any!" His voice lifted to match hers._

_She looked further enraged, if possible. "I wouldn't have spent all this time wishing to find him, to know what had happened! I hate you, for doing this! Do you hear me? I hate you, even more than I hate him! Why are you even here, huh? What's so damn important?"_

_"Your brother threw himself in front of a train this morning, I just thought you should know!" Though he shouted this, anger getting the best of his senses, it was hardly necessary; the words alone knocked her backwards. "So now, I'm the closest thing to family you've got, like it or not. Or should I go throw myself in front of a train, too?"_

_As she stared at him, wide eyed and pale, he simply squared his shoulders and looked straight at her. "I hated him too, but I can sure as hell relate to him. He did what he did for you, in his own way. I just… I can't even look at you, right now."_

She almost laughed at the memory, though that was mostly due to the rush as more vodka entered her body. Mere days after, they had moved to Manhattan; for a new start, Chad had called it. A chance to don new names and start over. And, it had been; he threw himself into his work and anything else he could, and she threw herself into the bottle. The barstool, the empty mugs, and the guilt-filled memories; 17 years old, and that was all Samantha 'Relic' Kates was left with.

Love did strange things to people.


	3. Escape

The city streets emptied, Dusk prepared for his work day to begin, his own monotonous routine to start as his shot glass hit the bar empty, traces of vodka on the inner edges. In his line of work, this was his cup of coffee. He didn't want to wake up, to face the day, or night, or anything for that matter. He wanted it numb, to be just a memory bordering on a bad dream he slept walked through.

Rising from the stool, he payed the tab in a gesture that had become habit to him. Sit, order, drink, wallow, stand, pay, leave. It was an easy enough procedure, and one he had perfected over the years to the point it never broke his concentration, even if he longed it to. It seemed strange that he always question his reasons for doing what he did, all while still going through the motions of his damned actions. He hated it, but it was habit, and like so many nights before, he went on his way to another dilapidated factory, or warehouse, or boarding house, to take care of someone else's work.

There was something off about tonight, however, something that didn't sit right with him, and not in the normal, "You know you're not supposed to be doing this, asshole," sort of way. The walk seemed longer, the city darker, the lead in his hand heavier. Every inch of him was telling him to stop, and he could swear he had drowned all of that away with the Russian alcohol in his blood.

Despite the warnings, his body, mind, and sanity telling him, "No," to stop before he began, just leave this one, and all who followed him, alone, he brought the heavy metal down to his knee cap, a resonating crunch filled the building. After that, the man's entire body, or the parts he wouldn't die from injury to, was fair game. The actions dulled his second thoughts, his anger over anything unrelated to the man and the situation pushing him forward until he was spent, the man before him limp and sobbing.

Dropping the pipe to the ground, the clang of metal on stone ringing in their ears, he fought to stay calm, to look uncaring. As the man looked up, his face not blurred like every other man's before him, he uttered a weak, "Why?" under the blood covered cloth tied around his mouth. It felt like hours he stood there, just staring at him, having no clue what to do or say in return. The gang members behind laughed and talked, some not even concerned about what had just occurred, it happened too frequently to incite feeling anymore.

Did he know why? No. He had been fighting that question for years now, and just blocked it out when the time came to do what he got paid for. Had the man deserved this, to potentially never walk again, to feel this kind of pain for whatever transgression he had done toward whichever gang had hired him this time? Did any of them deserve it? As the series of questions came full force, Dusk turned to leave, not giving a damn about the money, or the questioning gang members behind him who figured he had done the job pro bono.

He knew every little debt to these men had a high price to pay, and he was it. However, he never really thought about what they had done, just what he was supposed to do, and the money he put in his pocket at the end of the night. Walking aimlessly through the city streets, from Hell's Kitchen to Orchard Street, where his father's building stood like a monument of who he used to be, who he should have been, he barely registered the happenings around him. Climbing the three flights of stairs to his fathers tenement, he knocked half-heartedly, knowing the insomniac rabbi would be reading one of his religious texts, as he had been doing for years. Although he never understood his father and the religion he preached and followed, it was always a comfort to see him keep the same love for it despite the hardships it lead him to, the prosecution he faced because of it. Had he thought about it, he might have associated the comfort with the idea that, if he could hold the unconditional love for his faith, he could for his flawed son. He just never liked to think about it...

"Shalom, Aba," he uttered, kissing his fathers cheek as his father did the same, the knowledge of the night, as well as previous occasions going back several years, still circling his mind like a broken record.

"Shalom, Joshua," the man returned before his eyebrows furrowed in concern, as they so often did when in the presence of his only child. "Everything alright?" he asked, instinctively putting his hand to the boy's forehead upon seeing Dusk's pale appearance.

"I'm fine, just tired," Dusk offered in return, sitting on the couch in the small living room, leaning back and sighing deeply in an attempt to let out the negative or something to that extent. It was the same thing every night, an endless cycle of evil deeds and a guilty conscience in the presence of the one person he had a fear of letting down. In his eyes, disappointment was all he was good for, and thus kept his mouth shut and simply enjoyed the company of his father for the selfish reason of comfort despite his actions.

Strained discussion gave way to what it tended to, an avoidance of any serious conversation regarding Dusk's actions or any future endeavors and the anecdotal ramblings of a middle-aged rabbi. So long as he kept the soothing company of his principled father, and Jonah reminded himself daily that one day his son would find a medium between whatever life he was living and a life devoted to faith, both could at least keep up pretenses of a normal life.

As the sun rose over the New York skyline, father and son bid farewell, the rabbi ready to begin the day, his son ready to end his night. However, upon turning to leave, Jonah uttered simply, "I'm proud of you," as a compliment to make his son smile and end the day with. Dusk's heart sank within his chest as he attempted to at least show some plume in the comment, inwardly cursing himself for leading his father on with secrets and lies over the last nine years.

Strolling through the dawn-lit streets of a waking Manhattan, his every nerve was on edge thinking over his father's words and his uneasiness over his actions in the past night. There had to be an end, and he couldn't wait for someone to take action for him simply because he was used to the routine. Devine intervention or not, he had to find a way to break the cycle he had made for himself, returning to Hell's Kitchen with no other thought than one of departing the rancid streets.

He had lived the better part of the last ten years within the warehouse on the Hell's Kitchen docks, sharing the space with eleven of the only decent people still left within the neighborhood. Well, he wasn't about to count himself as decent, and from time to time had felt unworthy of their presence. After all, he was more like the bastard scum who roamed the night time streets than the innocence inside this sanctuary of sorts.

Ten voices bustled within, ten pairs of legs running to and fro to find whatever article of clothing they had lost the previous night in a careless habit. Yes, there had been a dozen, including himself, yet one had found it necessary to leave the maledict butcher's district that had become known as "Hell's Kitchen". Now, after the actions of the night before and many more scrolled through his mind one more time, Dusk understood why.


	4. Introductions and Old Habits

Responsibility was not her forte; at least, she didn't allow it to be. Not these days. It was far easier to simply 'bestow that honor' upon someone else while she drank herself away for the umpteenth time. She didn't have the energy to babysit a group of people who wouldn't remember her name after a few hours. Hell, _she _wouldn't remember her name after a few hours, if she had her way.

Really, she supposed being a leader of a lodging house automatically subjected one to obligations and things of the like. However, previously she had been pretty keen on dumping said duties on Chad and just keeping the title. After all, as long as he kept working and she kept avoiding work, neither would get hurt in the crossfire of arguments, and neither would have to deal with the fact that he was trying to move on, and she was drowning her inability to do so in bitter substances.

A few months after moving to Manhattan, Chad, or Ruin, and Relic became the leaders of the lodging house they now resided in, which suited them just fine. After all, Relic at least had some semblance of control over other people, even if she often didn't have control over herself. Ruin pushed himself, keeping the books in order and maintaining organization in order to forget what he didn't understand, block out what he didn't want to, and hope Relic, in turn did the same.

However rare, though, an occasion in which she was forced to feign responsibility would, sooner or later, creep up on her, and today proved to be one of those occasions. Despite the bright sun and the decent breakfast, selling had been poor and her blood was raging in its rare, alcohol-free state, making her even more tense than usual. Irritably she paced there in the lobby, waiting for the influx of new arrivals to come in and enjoy the free tour of nothing to look at, where they'd be spending the next few years of their miserable lives.

He was never one for goodbyes, or much heartfelt anythings, as he casually smiled and turned away from the Hell's Kitchen streets and his house mates in hopes of, well, he wasn't quite sure yet. There mere presence of hope at this point was questionable, but he blocked out the thought and walked the hour from the bitter neighborhood streets he'd known and been subject to for years to the unfamiliar territory of Tribeca. He had needed to leave, and everyone around him breathed a sigh of relief and inwardly pleaded to some sort of higher power that the distance from the caustic familiarity would do him good.

Foreign as it may be, the lower Manhattan streets provided some comfort in that they held a lack of gangs and, most importantly, his best friend. Milo "Satire" Verik had felt the desire to leave the unforgiving streets of West Side's butchers' district and happened upon the Manhattan Lodging House in an effort to lead a normal life, or as normal as a newsie could. Initially not understanding his friend's decision, Dusk found himself grateful for it now as he walked inside, finding only a slightly irritated girl pacing before him.

Deciding it best not to interrupt the girl in her agitated thoughts, he moved toward the ledger, signing his name and sitting on the lobby desk, lighting a cigarette. If he was going to be in unfamiliar territory, he was at least going to try to feel as at home as possible. At least until the girl stopped pacing...

Arching an eyebrow at the intruder, or, well, she supposed new lodger, Relic decided if she had to she should at least try to be...what's the word? Congenial? Well, maybe not that, but at least decent...in her own way, of course.

"Hey, I'm Relic. Who the he-" she started, then realized her wording, and the look of the man she was giving lip to and decided to show some sort of manners. "What's your name?"

"Dusk," he said simply, in a quiet voice. As uncomfortable as he was, his face remained calm as he exhaled the smoke from his cigarette away from her direction.

"Anything you need or want to know or..." yeah, this was a bit awkward. Damn it, this was the last time she did meet and greet with people she wouldn't think twice about otherwise.

Noticing her own reserve demeanor, he decided it best to at least show something other than a quiet street thug in her territory. "Only what bet did you lose getting stuck with greeting duty," he told her, faint hint of a smirk showing through as he offered her a cigarette.

Taking it gratefully, putting it away for later, she simply shrugged. _This kid ain't half bad,_ she thought...considering she'd rather be making friends with a shot of hard liquor than showing him the ropes.

Any actual response was cut off by an onslaught of younger girls entering the lodging house, the one's she had initially been told to show around the place and tell them which bunk was theirs. Sighing, she went back to leader mode, showing them to the ledger and instructing them on this, that, and the other, Dusk jumping down from the desk so he wasn't right in the middle of it. Half listening to the conversations at hand, he wondered if this was such a good idea, thinking he'd probably fair better in a place stock full of gang violence rather than adolescent girls.

"...And the leader who showed you around gets ten percent of your weekly earnings. You can give it to me between five and six, but I'm not really picky about the times. I'm a lot more lenient than some of the other leaders, so you pretty much lucked out," she finished, as if this last was a true rule. Hey, you never know, someone might be gullible enough to believe her. That is until...

"You don't have to give her anything," interrupted Chad as he casually walked down to the lobby. He had been conned into fixing a hole in the floor that had been caused by the same person who was doing some conning of her own to the new lodgers.

"Spoil sport," Relic mumbled under her breath, catching a look from Ruin before smiling innocently at him. Rolling his eyes, Ruin opted not to grace her insult with one of his own, mainly because he'd found over the years the chances of it getting him anywhere were slim to none.

"I'm Ruin, and the other two leaders are around here somewhere. Catch a girl by the name of Blaze or a guy by the name of Glory, and you've found them. Need anything, ask one of us, or Jade, if you can find her," he finished.

"Right, well..." with that, Relic patted him on the back and slipped out before he could object. Hey, payback for ruining her fun, or something. Besides, she needed a drink, and he had things covered. It had always been the rule that whenever he finished with his job, he could finish hers. Well, it had been her rule, anyway.

Dusk decided to slip past the fluttering of preteen and barely teenage girls, greeting Ruin in an almost relieved fashion, Ruin doing the same.

"Are they all like this?" Dusk asked, warily of his decision. He had lived with girls, that was true, but there was apparently a difference between Hell's Kitchen girls and the group that had surrounded him.

"Those that aren't are a lot worse, trust me," Ruin laughed, before showing him his bunk, allowing him to set his belongings down and survey the area. Worse? Dusk could deal with anything, almost, but flighty princesses was something he hadn't planned on living in a ten mile radius of, let alone in the same building. "You get used to the younger ones, or ignore them whichever suits you. Those that don't irritate you, provide comic relief, I suppose, but, then again, you did just see Relic."

"Anything else I need to watch out for?" Dusk asked, almost acrophobic of the entire situation and his decision.

"Not really. You tend to learn quick who you can and shouldn't talk to. You know anyone around here?"

"Milo, or Satire, actually," Dusk shrugged.

"Yeah, he's one of the better ones, if you can believe it. Though he's settled down with his girlfriend, Snooza. Getting pretty serious, apparently..."

"Satire and serious never go in the same sentence together," he replied with a slight chuckle.

Ruin laughed before leaving him to fix the plumbing in the girl's washroom. Last time he let Relic "fix" anything with pipes...though he had vowed that since their orphanage days, and she always managed to find the damn wrench.

Climbing up to the roof as the sun began to set over the skyline of Manhattan, Dusk felt a drop in his stomach. Could he handle this? He needed some sort of familiarity, some sort of comfort until he became adjusted to his new surroundings. As the orange hues gave way to purple, he climbed down the fire escape and strolled the streets below. He needed routine, habit, something he had known for years to help him adapt to this new way of life he was trying to lead.

His walk led him back to the streets of Hell's Kitchen that he knew like the back of his hand, to the warehouse where the Gophers and their leader Mallet Murphy, frequently stayed to relax and allude authorities. He just needed another hit, another nameless person to vent his aggression on through brass knuckles and a lead pipe. With this necessity clouding his mind, before he knew it he had a few extra dollars in his pocket and was off to perform another hit...


	5. A Night Out

1He put a hand to his split lip and swelling cheekbone, cursing the bastard who caused it. Wiping the blood away, the copper taste spreading through his mouth, he spit onto the concrete below, rubbing his swelling lip, grimacing slightly. Damn job. At least he got paid decently for it. Besides, he wasn't the one who got the worse end of the deal.

He had sworn to himself up and down that as soon as he had gotten comfortable with his new life, his new surroundings, he would stop and lead a somewhat decent life. However, as evident by the goon that fought back as he hit his knee with a crowbar, that wasn't tonight.

Apparently, he wasn't the only one suffering the injustices of the early July night, a figure storming toward him before stumbling over him completely. Flat on her face and cursing another damn injury for the night, Relic let out a rather exasperated, "Damn it!" laying there for an extra moment or two.

"You alright?" he asked, eyes adjusted to the darkness but still unable to make out who had just fallen over him. He leaned down to help...whoever...up, having a faint recognition of the voice the curse belonged to.

"Here, let me help you...and hide you from whatever it is you were running from."

"I'm fine. And just so you know, I don't run from nothin'!" _And I fall over _**everything**. Groaning at her now-bloody nose, she gladly took the boy's help, though grumbled a bit.

"Fair enough. It's Relic, right?" he asked, hoping to change the subject to appease the frustrated, and freshly injured, girl before him.

"Yeah...who the he-" she started, then realized this to be vaguely familiar. "Dusk?" she wondered aloud, lighting a match in order to get a better look. "Whoa. Get in a fight with a lead pipe?" She reached out and poked his lip to make sure it wasn't just the dim lighting.

Grimacing a bit as she prodded his tender lip, Dusk started to laugh, though he further hurt his swelling lip and bruised cheek to do so. "Looks like we both did. Here," he started, taking a hankerchief out of his pocket, "plug your nose, use this for the blood, crouch down and put your chin to your chest."

"No, I got in a fight with your shoe," Relic mumbled, dropping the match and taking his handkerchief before doing as he instructed. "You sure got this down to a science."

"Not really a science, just have had too many nosebleeds to count," he laughed back, surveying the damage on her face in the dim lighting.

As odd as it seemed, sitting here in the darkened alley, bruised and battered before a girl with a nosebleed, was the calmest he had been in days. Perhaps it was simply the mental exhaustion within and the knowledge that someone else seemed about as frustrated with the world as he did, but, at any cost, it was somewhat soothing.

When Relic was satisfied that the blood had stopped, she stood up, giving him a small smile. "Guess I owe ya a handkerchief, huh? Thanks. I mean, I probably wouldn't 'a done it if the situation was turned. Of course, you probably would've broken my legs if you'd tripped over me, so... I guess it doesn't work. But. Uh." Gosh, she did these gratitude things poorly. "Thanks."

"Not my handkerchief, so don't worry about it. And, you're welcome. I wouldn't blame you for not helping me, especially if I was the cause of a few broken bones for you. You alright now? I know a place with good whiskey. Well, not really, but the vodka stays down long enough.".

"I'm okay," she nodded, then visibly perked up at the thought of alcohol. "But I wouldn't ever turn away from vodka. Will you tell me what exactly ya did to make that pipe so damn angry?"

"Good to hear it. Have yet to hear anyone decent turn their nose up at a good bit of alcohol. It's the ones that abstain from it you have to watch out for, never know what they're up to with their free time," he joked before answering, "Payback, that's all. And what made you run so fast?"

"Wise guy," she retorted, unable to hide the smirk that came with it before answering his question with a shrug. "Angry," she said simply, deciding that if he could be honest, so could she. "Tried to buy some gin, and this guy gives me a bottle full of water. So, I go back to get my damn money back, he wouldn't give it, and when I tried to take it back... well, how the hell are ya supposed to know a guy has a fake leg when he's wearin' trousers? Then his son, or maybe his brother, I don't know, comes screamin' at me like he's gonna take my head off, and by the time I get outta there, I still ain't got my money back, no gin, and it's too late for curfew," she finished, before adding, "But I ain't got a scratch on me. Well, save for the nose..."

Dusk couldn't help but laugh at her story, or at least her pride in coming out of the entire incident unscathed. Go figure, it would be her own general clumsiness that would be her downfall, literally. 

"In that case...gin is on me tonight," he offered. "I did well again, go figure. It's those side jobs. What's more, there's a fire escape, a roof, and it's nice weather. Nothing stopping you from sleeping outside tonight."

"That's the truth," she started, before pausing, wondering what side jobs he meant exactly. Brushing off the curiosity she had seemingly obtained from the gossipy, preteen girls inside, she smiled widely to hide her previous thoughts. "Well...what are ya waiting for? I need to get some drinks in me and..."

And what? Do what she did every night, pass out and remember the events that occured almost as dreams the next day? It occured to her that, as much as she wanted a drink, she'd rather not do that tonight. If he thought she was half decent, or at least blind to whatever flaws she had shown him already, he obviously didn't know her well enough yet; he'd learn, but she'd rather him keep up his pleasant illusions for another eve. "Actually, I really shouldn't. Got into a big fight a couple of nights back, broke a big window and a lot 'a other stuff, bulls are still scannin' for me. You should go, though, before everyone shuts down."

"Hey now, if you're not going, I'm not. If you go alone to a bar, that makes you an alcoholic. And, I'll drink until I'm dead everyday as long as I'm around people, but I can't have on drink period alone or I'm officially a drunkard," said Dusk, with a slight teasing tone in his voice.

_Yeah, wouldn't want anyone thinking that_. She sighed, her good mood all but diminished. Too much time sober, she mused. "So what are ya gonna do? I think I'm just gonna head up to the roof, try to get some sleep. Been spendin' a lot of time up there lately, got my own sleeping spot." She gave a small smile.

Dusk smiled at her and simply nodded. "I tend to stay out at nights. How I got my name. Have to live up to it, after all. Besides...I have friends to meet."

She wondered, briefly, what kind of friends one meets under the cover of darkness, but shrugged. "Yeah, wouldn't want people to think you'd gone soft. See ya around," she laughed, slapping his arm in her favorite goodbye gesture. "Don't get caught," she added, as she turned and made for the fire escape.

"I never get caught," he called up to her...partly wishing she would join him. She was the first decent person he had met in the lodging house, and it was a breath of fresh air not to have someone he felt like slapping or throwing a brick at.

"You mean you've never _been_ caught," Relic called, pausing to look down and give him a cheeky grin. "Yet."

After a few moments, she hesitated, once again her curiosity getting the best of her. "Hey, those friends you were talking about, did you mean you were meetin' 'em tonight? 'Cause if you weren't... I mean, the bums are startin' to get a little upset that I keep bootin' 'em, and I really wasn't gonna sell until tomorrow afternoon, anyway..." she asked, hanging off the escape in a rather dangerous way, hoping he would catch her drift without having to outright say it. What did Manhattan look like after the lights went down, to a completely sober person? She was awfully curious; and with a name like Dusk, he would be able to show her, right? Right, she decided.

Smiling up at her, he offered his hand in a sign to have her come down and join him. After all, the ally gangs had started teasing him about never bringing a wench around. He'd do them one better by bringing an actual feeling female with some dignity...

She grinned, climbing back down. "All this time and I never really seen a lot of Manhattan; in the dark, I mean. Outside of the bars. Ain't crazy enough to go by myself, and none of the guys ever want to go, for some reason." Probably because she was always slightly drunk and picking fights with large individuals, but hey, water under the bridge. "So, live up to your name, and show me the best place in the damn town!" she exclaimed, rather excited at the prospect of an evening of adventure that didn't involve liquor. Go figure.

"Actually...Hell's Kitchen is more the worst of the city. But, the worse I show you, I'll make it up to you with showing you the best as well," he promised, and wasn't kidding either. Hell's Kitchen, the rancid butcher district of Manhattan's West Side, was as far from the "best" as the Five Points was to the East. "Just do me a favor and keep your hands in your pockets, or keep anything of value here before we leave, alright?" he asked, suddenly becoming protective. After all, if something happened to this girl, who was practically a stranger, but the first person he'd had a decent conversation with in the place since arriving, he wouldn't be able to forgive himself.

_Anything of value_, she snorted at the idea. "Shut up, stay close, keep hands in the pockets and don't go asking random people the time. I can handle it." Giving him a lopsided grin, she nodded toward the street. "Come on, you ain't gotta worry. I won't cause no trouble."

Dusk smiled at her and nodded, leading the way from the safe...er...streets of Tribeca up to the northwest side of the borough. A thought past through his head suddenly- the first decent human being in this place was the first to see his bad habits and the people he associated with on a daily basis. Part of him wanted to go back and tell her...anything...to keep her from coming. The other part was fine with it, grateful for the company.

They kept small talk as the city changed from the business district they now resided in, past Houston, and continued onward. Relic looked at the night time skyline with interest upon viewing it with sober eyes, Dusk feeling less of a desire to numb himself for the evening and more to just enjoy the company and the light breeze the July eve had to offer. Yet, still eating at the pit of his stomach, was the knowledge that she would walk away from this evening knowing who he was, what he did on an almost nightly basis.

Upon entering the familiar territory Dusk had so recently called home, he stopped in his tracks for a moment and instructed simply, "Since they've never met you, don't speak until they talk to you and don't let them intimidate you. Talk forcefully with them and, even if they can kill you, they won't want to. They like a smart mouth."

"Are you sayin' I got a smart mouth?" She meant it to come out as though she had been hurt by the statement, but the smirk gave her way. Oh well, who wanted to be an actress, anyway? "Okay, I think I can handle that."

She was half-tempted to ask him who these 'them' were, and why he was going to meet them, but held her tongue still. This place made her uncomfortable, not that she'd ever admit it; he'd tell her what she needed to know when she needed to know, probably. The shred of doubt stayed in her, however.

"Oh, I've known you had a smart mouth since I first met you...asking for 10 of my earnings. Yes, you do have a smart mouth," he replied, smirking back.

He nodded his head in greeting to the louses of the city, people like Ignazio Lupo, Annuziato Cappiello, and Moll Sheba. He hated them, each and every one, but he respected them in the same way they respected him. They got shit done. He walked straight through the door, flipping a dime to the man guarding the front. He knew him...everyone knew him.

"What have I told you about starting things without me? Unless you want me to walk of to the 19th street gang," he said as he eyed the gang before him, the Gophers, Mallet Murphy at the head.

"This here is Relic by the way. Any of you boys so much as look at her wrong and you'll feel the blunt end of a long knife through your throat, got it?"

Careful to stay near to him, she looked at the men in the room. They all had that same curious gleam in their eyes, like they knew something she didn't, something bad. It had been quite some time since she'd seen those looks, and she hadn't missed them. She glanced at Dusk with surprise at his words. What was he talking about? And was he serious in his threats?

He sure seemed serious. She pushed the thoughts from her mind; now was not the time, she knew. Instead, she raised an eyebrow at the men, as if daring them to test his words. She almost crossed her arms across her chest, but stopped herself. That much attitude, and she'd deserve to get killed.

"A simple hello would have done, Samson. It's a pleasure to meet you Miss...Relic?" Came Murphy as he stood up to greet their guest before turning back to Dusk.

"What do you want Murphy?" 

"Same ole, same ole, kid," he said calm, and with a slight humor in his voice.

"I gotta tell you, I'm getting tired of being your bill collector. I'm a free agent, remember?"

"Five dollars extra, just for the usual. Nothing fancy. I like this guy, he's just really getting bad about abusing my generosity."

"Got it...who, where, and when?" Dusk asked, the same serious voice, same cold look on his face. This was the usual, what he was used to by now.

"Abandoned King Street tenement south of Houston, Max Malloy, tomorrow at midnight. Good kid...too bad..." he said, before nodding to Dusk, Dusk following suit. Murphy then handed him a ten, before he bowed goodbye to Relic.

And that was it. The Gophers all tipped their hats or simply winked at Relic, and Dusk was on his way back downstairs. First job of the night done. He was in and out the door in no more than ten minutes.

"That's a lot of money," Relic said quietly, obviously relieved to be out of there. "They seemed... uh... decent." Well, not really. But at least she trusted him a bit more; at least, for now. He scared her a bit, made her uncertain. But hell, what man didn't? "Where to now?"

"They're not decent. They're vile, evil men with selfish purposes, and I do their bidding for five to ten dollars at a time," he said. He was always slightly bitter after meeting with the Gophers, but they paid him well and it was easy money. Sighing deeply, he answered simply, "Lynch's. It's a bar in Midtown. Have a couple of bets to settle. Again, stay close to me and check your pockets." Why did he ask her along? This was dangerous for a girl to be walking around Hell's Kitchen at night. Even with him, it was dangerous for her to walk through there during the day come to think of it.

"Right." If looks could kill. She bit back any words past that; as much as she did hate being berated, she wasn't about to make him angry. But snapping at her? She was just trying to make conversation, damnit! Who did he think he was?

He'd _offered_ to take her. If she was such a burden, then he shouldn't have! If he didn't want her here, that was fine with her! She _knew_ to stay close, and watch her pockets! And he'd already told her enough, anyway. "Stay close to this," she muttered under her breath, before stepping on the heel of his shoe with a rather spiteful stomp. Of course, she stumbled too, but at least that made it look more like an accident.

"Hey, what was that for?" he asked, stopping mid step. What had gotten into her all of a sudden? He wanted to think woman troubles and go on with his life, but she was fine just a second ago.

"For being so damn.. damn irritating!" She paused for a moment, before looking slightly sheepish. She really hadn't thought it out; it had just been a spur of the moment action, as was usual with her. "I would've just outright hit you, but I didn't think that would be the smartest thing."

She shrugged, crossing her arms and digging her heels into the ground, looking as stubborn as she knew how to. "If you don't want me here, just say it. I don't mind runnin' your errands with you, but I don't want you feeling like you have to take me, like I'm some dumb kid that follows you 'round that you gotta protect 'cause it's your duty." She sighed, pausing a moment to try and clear her head. "Look, just say the word, and I'll go. I'm sorry, it's just... surprising, I guess. This place, you acting so different. I want to stay, but not if you don't want me here."

Sighing, his attitude softened a great deal; she was out of her element and he knew he. He looked around and took her into the nearest empty building he could. Despite the broken windows and burnt furniture, he felt safer to talk to her in here than on the streets. 

"If I just upset you in any way, I'm sorry. I never like dealing with the Gophers and don't know why I still do it. I hate what I do for them and how it makes me feel. I'm no better than a prostitute with them, even if they show me respect and don't backhand me when I give them lip."

"Sure, I feel like its my duty to protect you. But that's because I asked you here, and I want you here. You told me you haven't seen the city, well...this is the dead worst of it. I'm just really damn terrified of you getting hurt, even if you are near me. Telling you to be careful just makes me feel better, alright? If you look around you, I say it when I see someone I know, someone who will rob you blind or rape you and leave you there to either die or be killed by someone else."

"I act different here because if I show any emotion to anyone, or anything less than anger and pride, then they will exploit any weakness and hurt me, you, or the both of us. Just because they can. These people in Hell's Kitchen, and the Five Points while I'm at it, are dirty, evil people with nothing better to do than to set your house on fire so they can steal your belongings or beat the hell out of you because they had a bad day."

He hoped she would understand. This is how Hell's Kitchen worked, and this is how he had to operate around it. Besides, he didn't just give a damn speech justifying his actions for his own pleasure, so she damn well better understand...hopefully...

"I promised you that the worse you saw right now, the better I would show you later. At this rate, I'm taking you to the top of the Statue of Liberty to see Ellis Island at night," he finished with a light smirk, hoping to alleviate whatever discomfort the previous minutes had given her.

"I guess I understand how you feel," she managed, before looking up and giving him a wry smile. She briefly wondered why he would continue to do it, but he had shared more than she had a right to know already. "I thought you said they were friends; did seem awful strange way for friends to behave!"

"The friends, and maybe even family, part comes later. Trust me. That was a job. I do it I think because Im used to it. Been doing it for years, and it's a good bit of money to give my father at the end of the night."

"Your dad, huh?" Relic couldn't help but smile a bit. "You're sure easy 'bout your life. I know more 'bout you than I know 'bout people I've talked to for years."

"I'm pretty open about my family and friends. No reason not to be. They don't make me ashamed like they do for others. I make me ashamed, which is why its harder for me to talk about...all of what I do."

Relic grunted, shaking her head. "Who can blame you for doing what you gotta? It's nice that you got people like that, though. Guess it explains why you ain't a total hard ass."

"I pretend I'm one from time to time though, as you saw. Hopefully that's one of the reasons why I haven't been killed yet."

"Pretty damn convincin' for make believe," she agreed, remembering those unpleasant feelings during that exchange all too well.

"Don't worry, no more pretending for the night, I promise," he reassured her, smiling a bit. And, the warnings wont be so much of 'watch your pockets'; more like 'don't talk to Scatter for more than a few minutes, seeing as he'll forget what you're talking about and you'll have to start all over.' And, Sharp is just a plain jackass, so don't let him wind you up."

"I'll forget those, I'm sure. But that's all right; I'm sure I'll remember a few minutes after I need the tips," she laughed, following his lead as they left the abandoned building behind for the evil Hell's Kitchen streets once more.

As they passed buildings Dusk knew all too well, buildings Relic had never seen in her life despite living in the same city, they attempted to keep discussion light, or at least off the evils Relic had just been introduced to. However, realizing how little she really knew the guy, her gaze turned somber, tilting her head a bit in inquiry.

"So why'd you leave?" She paused, not sure she should ask. Shrugging off the worry, she looked over at him. "I mean, if you're so close to everybody."

"Change of scenery. Hopefully the Tribeca area will get rid of these criminal tendancies...but right now its just taking me longer to walk everywhere."

"Can take the man out of the place, but not the other way around," she mused, somewhat to herself, Dusk smirking and nodding in agreement. However, he supposed, as he neared the warehouse he had spent the majority of his time the last ten years, that the company you keep also have a factor in making you who you are. The group he had grown up with had made his life bearable, really, and he was reminded of this as he knocked on the door he had so frequently passed through in previous days.

Who is it?" came the voice of a girl from behind it, more like a housewife than a newsgirl in the middle of a slum.

"Its Dusk...we got a guest." There was a click and the clattering of a chain or two before the door opened, revealing the girl behind it to be a skinny, pale girl with black curly hair and a smile to be jealous of.

"Welcome home, kid!" Bound said, throwing her arms around him. He turned to Relic, Bound still attached.

"Told you she was friendly. Bound, this is Relic...Relic, Bound." Bound separated herself and offered her hand to Relic's before showing her inside.

Before Relic knew it, one minute she was shaking this girl's hand, the next she found herself in a rather large room with a group of people scattered every which way, Dusk attempting to introduce them all. Though, he really shouldn't have bothered, seeing as she wouldn't remember half of them, she was sure.

That's Snare, London, and KO...the one hanging off the railing is Tidbit, Scatter is the one asleep on the couch, Sharp is up there, and Saint is the one at the table play-...what are you doing Saint?" 

"Solitaire...there's no cheating in solitaire."

"Petite and Stutters are upstairs asleep probably..." Dusk said, as he shook his head at Saint and turned to the group.

"Nice to meet you...uhh..." said London

"Relic...everyone, this is Relic."

The group all waved, save for Sharp, where he simply took a drink from his beer bottle and threw it down to the floor below.

"Be nice, kid, we have a guest." said Dusk, before he turned to Relic, realizing her previous thoughts: maybe it wasn't such a smart idea introducing the whole lot of them to her at once. However, he shrugged off the thought, figuring she'd get used to the group around her, and hoping she'd find good in this place where she had found bad earlier.

"Hey," she said, to all of them and to none of them. "Nice place you got here." She was sure making a lot of compliments tonight. But she really meant this one; in comparison to the rest of the places she'd seen this eve, this place great. Warm, well lit, and with that calm, relaxed feeling that she almost didn't recognize, it had been so long since she'd felt it. Smiling slightly, she scanned the room.

Saint got up from the table to shake hands with her, Snare and London following suit. KO shyly stayed out, though he waved politely. Scatter, of course, slept through the entire greeting process, Sharp and Tidbit staying put as well. Sharp sneered at the guest...never being one to trust newcomers, or anyone for that matter. Tidbit stayed where she was simply because she was a 16 year old small child...she meant the best but had no manners.

"This is everyone," Dusk said to Relic before turning to Saint. "Want to play an actual game kid? I finished early for the night."

"Poker? With you lot? I'm not going to survive this, or come out with anything short of mental scars, am I?"

"Doubtful...very doubtful," Bound teased, before turning to Relic, smile getting...if possible...wider. "Care to join us? We're kind of boring, I know, but it helps us wind down before we go to bed for the night and Dusk heads out for God knows what else."

Looking back to Bound, she nearly laughed. Who was going to say no to a grin like that? "Yeah, deal me in."

The game provided a much needed break from the ordinary as far as both Relic and Dusk went; Relic more than happy to take in the new atmosphere while Dusk was simply pleased to be home again amongst people who understood him. Needless to say, the useless banter between the comrades brought a welcome vacation from the prepubescent love triangles and trivial drama at the lodging house.

Several hours passed by in a flurry of poker hands and friendly discussion until the company before them began to nod off where they sat. With a series of "goodnight"s and "goodbye"s, Dusk and Relic made their way back out into the mid-Manhattan streets, a great deal more relaxed than they had been in previous hours.

"What now?" Relic asked, wired from what she had seen, the people she had met, so far. After never seeing the streets of the city after dark, well, sober, see was rather enjoying having the nightlife being thrown in her face- no matter how seedy.

"Usually go over to my dad's place. If you're up for it, you're more than welcome to come along, but I can always take you back to the lodging house first, no problem."

She faltered, thinking it over. Being around parents made her uneasy; hell, families as a whole made her uneasy. But in the end, curiosity won out over reluctance, and she nodded. "No, I want to. Will he be awake at this hour?"

"Man never sleeps, and if he does then I'm never around for it. But, he's always up between four and five, so with the time it takes us to walk over there, he should be up."

"So why don't you live with him?" Her eyes suddenly became locked on a stone in the road up ahead, but she didn't take the question back. He'd been fine with questions before; why would it have changed? Besides, her sleepiness was beginning to push away her reluctance to question things, or what she would contribute to sleepiness should she be asked.

"I initially left because I didn't feel right living in the same place with someone whose beliefs in something were so strong and I didn't have any faith at all. Now I can't go back knowing how I support myself and then turn around and sleep under the same roof as a rabbi. Doesn't feel right."

She looked at him for a long moment, and would have considered herself staring and looked away immediately had she been thinking of anything else but trying to understand the man before her. He was so...sad. Why was he so sad? She kept her eyes fixed on him, stunned when she realized that through it all, she didn't know this boy one bit. She was half-tempted to just ask her rather childish question, but bit it back. Whatever made him this way, she wasn't sure she could handle hearing about it. Couldn't just let it go, though. Of course. "You ain't got no faith? What do you mean?"

"I stopped believing in God, in anything like that. I don't believe in any of it anymore. My father kept saying that we're the chosen people, but I found that so hard to believe that if we were loved by some father figure, he would choose us to carry everything on our shoulders. I was tired of being told that I guess, tired of being chosen, so I stopped believing in it altogether."

He couldn't for the life of him understand why he was talking to her about this, why he trusted her. Passing several businesses along the way, he realized how relaxed he was considering his company and their surroundings, not to mention the previous occurrences of the evening. He supposed, idly, that it helped tonight he was going to be able to actually speak to his father what with not actually committing criminal acts this time around, and bringing a friend around to boot. At least, he believed she was a friend.

Deciding it best to now avoid the whole faith-talk, she went back to her own problem facing her, one she wasn't sure she was ready to deal with, if she would ever be ready to deal with- meeting someone's father.

"So... you're sure your dad's going to be okay with us, me, just showing up at his door at this hour?"

"The man enjoys company, no matter what hour," Dusk assured her with a smirk. "Besides, it's not like he has anything better to do, so, really, we're doing him a favor."

Nodding, she opted not to word her many issues with ending up on the front step of a man she didn't know with his son, whom she had only really just started to get acquainted with.

Really, she wasn't quite sure what she was doing showing up at anyone's door at this hour, with a man she barely knew. She did a lot of stupid things, but usually drew the line at things that could easily end her death (which, as far as she was concerned, did not include her nightly bar fights; she'd run before those went too far). She'd definitely crossed that line tonight, and why?

At that, she glanced up at Dusk, and allowed a slight smirk to cross her face. "You know, I think either that damn lodging house has finally driven me crazy, or you're just really... special. I don't run the streets like this with just anyone."

"My bet is on the lodging house," he laughed out. "Chances are if I've been there three weeks and I'm already going insane, God knows what it's done to you. But, honestly, I don't usually allow anyone to run the streets with me, or even tell them what the hell I run the streets for, so I guess we're even."

Of course, special or not, he would bet on her running as far away from him as possible after tonight. After all, she hadn't exactly seen him at his most flattering, and she'd seen more of him in one night than many saw in years.

As his father's tenement building came into view, and he glanced at the wary look on her face, he offered, "We don't have to go in, you know. I could take you back to the lodging house, no problem."

"No, I'm good, let's go meet him," she replied with a nod, as if that would take care of her own insecurities of the situation.

"If you say so..." he said, before turning to her and asking somewhat sheepishly, "Sorry, but...what's your real name? Might be a little odd if I introduce you as Relic."

At that, she raised an eyebrow and looked irritated for a moment, but then merely shook her head. "Guess it'll be a little odd, then." Shrugging, he figured it was her choice and, odd or not, he'd abide by it.

Knocking on the door, Dusk waited for a few moments as he heard shuffling and a faint voice either talking to himself or those behind the door. After a little while, the door opened to reveal a man who, despite the bits of gray hair, crows feet, and laugh lines, resembled Dusk a great deal.

"Shalom, Aba," Dusk said, stepping inside and kissing his father quickly on the cheek, Jonah doing the same in return. "Dad, this is...well...she goes by Relic. Relic, this is my dad."

Stepping, and abruptly stopping, under the doorframe, she nodded to the man. Then, remembering the father and son moment, she quickly thrust her hand outward, a bit awkwardly, to make certain this man knew just what kind of greeting _she_ was expecting (she _so_ didn't do kissing). "Um, Sir."

Dusk had to keep himself from outright laughing at Relic. Poor girl looked more uneasy here than surrounded by murderous thugs. Oh well, the whole rabbi thing made him uncomfortable too, and he was the man's son, so he could sympathize.

"Pleasure, Miss Relic," Jonah replied with a smile that never left despite her uneasy actions. "I don't know what my son did to bribe you into coming, but he owes you twice that. Come in, sit down, and help yourself to anything to eat or drink."

"Thanks... Dusk's Dad," she replied, moving a bit rigidly inside and sitting on the far edge of the couch. "So... you're a dad. How's that going for you?" Well, since she truly didn't have much of a clue what the hell a rabbi did, she had to start on some kind of middle ground.

"Please, call me Jonah," he replied kindly. However, at her next comment, Dusk couldn't help but let out a laugh, but attempted to cover it with a cough.

Giving Dusk a look, Jonah simply said, "Joshua, be nice," before turning back toward her. "Depends on how much grief this one decides to give me on a given day. Do you two live in the same...what is it?"

"It's a lodging house, Dad. And, where's the bread?"

"You ate it all..." Jonah laughed, Dusk sighing and going back to search for something else to eat.

"You want anything, Relic?" he called out, vaguely remembering his manners.

"I'll have whatever you're having," she called back, before smiling and turning her attention back to Jonah. "Yeah, we live in the lodging house together. I'm the leader; keep things in line, that's what I do."

"Leader? Well, you can help me keep Joshua in line. I need all the help I can get there," Jonah teased.

"Oh ha ha ha," Dusk called back from the kitchen, barely listening to the conversation, though thankful it was a lot less awkward than he thought it would be.

"Sorry, to barge in on you like this, Sir," she told him as Dusk came back, bowls of soup in each hand, sitting on the couch, handing one to Relic.

"Barge? Oh, my dear, you didn't barge in at all. Once you're here, the door's always open to you. Besides, I'm sure he told you I could use the company. And he could use some manners. Did you think of offering her a drink?" he finished, asking Dusk who put his hands up in innocence.

"It's _soup_, you practically drink it anyway," he defended himself, before Jonah shook his head, unable to keep from chuckling, and went to retrieve some drinks.

Remembering the manners comment, she attempted several times to eat properly, before giving up altogether and inhaling the food before her. Dusk, having hear horror stories of what happened when you made fun of a woman's eating habits, simply decided to do the same in an attempt to make her feel more comfortable. Coming back to witness the spectacle, Jonah smiled at the two half-starved teenagers, taking a seat on the lounge chair in front of the couch and talked about practically anything that came to his mind. After all, he didn't want to just sit there and watch them eat, and in those days, without radio or television, they had to make their own noise.

Flushing slightly when she finished, she glanced between the two and smiled slightly. "Sorry... lived with a lot of guys for a long time. Manners ain't the greatest."

Looking slightly uncomfortable again (though not uncomfortable enough to not down the drink he'd offered, as well), she rose to her feet, silently taking her dishes into the kitchen. Then she returned, and offered a smile to Jonah. "Thanks a lot."

"You're very welcome. Least I could do after he dragged you around all night. Did he at least tell you to watch your pockets?"

"It's better than where I probably would've been if I'd gone out of my own," she supplied, than realized who she was speaking to and flushing slightly. "Yeah, he did. I kept telling him there wasn't much worth watching, but he kept saying it, anyway."

Before Jonah could say anything, Dusk decided to save her any embarrassment and retorted, "She apparently doesn't go out at night, or too far from the lodging house at least. I'd be worried too. Though, I'm not the smartest of people to be wondering all around the borough past midnight." Hopefully that helped cover whatever she was worried about.

"It's probably in your best interest to stay inside after dark in this city, but try telling that to him," Jonah replied, Dusk rolling his eyes and going about washing whatever dishes there were.

"Yeah, lots of big bads, I hear," she laughed, visibly relaxing. Taking advantage of Dusk's removal from the room, she lowered her voice and turned to Jonah. "Has he always been so... quiet?"

Smile waivering for a moment, Jonah sighed and said simply, "If you can believe it, this is talkative and relatively loud for him. He's gotten better, but he never really spoke when he was younger, and when he did it was so quiet you could swear it was the wind instead."

"He's really sad," she stated, then instantly turned crimson and waved her hands. Apparently the presence of this man yanked the truth right from her mouth; that was dangerous, for her. "I mean, uh, well, never mind. He seems like a decent guy. You did a good job with 'im."

For the first time that night, Jonah, too, appeared less than jovial. "He is sad, and has been for quite some time now. He can try to hide it all he wants, but it comes out in the end. He just needs to deal with whatever is bothering him on his own, and he knows I'm there for him until then and afterward," he said in a quiet voice. 

However, at her next comment, his smiled returned and he nodded in agreement. "No matter what, underneath that exterior he's a good kid. Never let him tell you different. I couldn't be prouder." After a moment, Dusk came in from the kitchen, dishes washed and dried and smirked at the two before him, completely oblivious to their conversation.

Upon seeing Dusk enter, with a slightly-fake smile, Relic stood. "Well, guess it's getting to be time to go; almost time to get ready for selling, though I don't think that's going to be happening today. Might fall asleep right on my feet!"

Smiling back, Dusk nodded at her comment. It was indeed time to leave, even if he did just sell the evening edition. However, Jonah wasn't about to have them losing money, or, well, her really. So, with that, he went over to his jar in the kitchen and pulled out a dollar.

"Take it, and I won't have you saying no," he told Relic, holding it out to her. "You've earned a day to rest."

"What?" The look of pure shock was new to her face; it took a lot to surprise her, these days, let alone completely floor her. But apparently, acts of kindness could do it. Snapping out of it after a moment, she shook her head. That was nearly a day's pay! "No, Sir, there's no way I could... I mean... you don't even know me! I couldn't..."

"I know you well enough now. Besides, Joshua gives me more money than I need and after walking around with him all night, keeping him out of trouble, you've earned it," he assured her, smile, if possible, growing wider. Dusk, on the other hand, was used to his father's ways and just smirked between the two.

"Well, I... okay. Alright." A big grin flashed over her face as she took the dollar, shoving it into her pocket and making for the door before he could change his mind. Pausing at the door, she jammed her hands in her pockets and smiled slightly. "My name's Sam, by the way. Well, Samantha, really."

"It was nice to meet you, Samantha. And, like I said, the door's always open," Jonah replied.

"Thanks for the food, Dad," Dusk said, giving his father a quick hug, which Jonah returned.

At that, they both left the tenement and headed back out into the street, at which point Relic let out a yawn and, smiling up at Dusk, asked cheerfully, "So, where now?"

"Brooklyn Bridge. It'll only take a few minutes, so might as well," he said, taking out a cigarette and offering one to her as well?

"What's so great about a bridge?" she asked, taking the cigarette quickly.

Lighting the cigarette and offering a light to her, he shrugged and replied, "Not so much the bridge, really," as he kept walking, grateful Orchard Street was right by it.

Making it to the bridge and walking a little ways into it, he stopped after a while and leaned against the railing, looking out toward the East River and Brooklyn.

Leaning into the light, she coughed slightly as she began to inhale the smoke. "What, then?" she asked curiously, but quieted as she saddled up beside him and came to a stop.

"Just...wait," was all he said at first, still looking in the same direction. However, in a few moments orange hues could be see in between and above the buildings, reflecting off the river. Yeah, after a long night, it was good to have something relaxing to end it on.

"Oh, wow..." she managed, before accidently sucking in a breath and ending in a coughing fit. It passed quickly though, for which she was glad; the sunrise hitting the river was a sight she'd never seen before. Sitting down, she glanced up at him. "How did you know about this?"

"A few years back my dad and I got into a disagreement and I came over here to cool off. Happened to be at the right time and after seeing, well, this, I felt a lot better. Figured you might want to see it. Besides, I offered to show you the best of the city...though, I still think I have a little ways to go to make up for earlier in the evening."

"I don't think so. This is great! I've," she paused to yawn, the night catching up with her as she leaned back, shutting her eyes for a moment, "I've never seen anything like it."

"Well, now you have," he laughed, before yawning as well. Hey, chain yawning or something...it happens. Taking a deep breath and stretching a bit once he pulled away from the ledge, he smirked at her. "You know, I never really introduced myself. I'm Joshua, or Josh...as you pretty well know by now," he said, holding out his hand to her.

She grinned at him, taking his hand and shaking it so hard she was surprised she didn't send him crashing to the ground. "I know. But, well, it's nice to know you, Josh. I'm Sam... but call me Relic. Always hated the name Sam."

Laughing as she shook his hand rather roughly, this time he offered to help her up. "Actually, I kind of like it, but it's not my place. Don't worry, I won't tell anyone."

Gladly taking his help, she hefted herself to her feet, dusting herself off and shrugging. "I hate it, and it's not what I go by, anymore. But, thanks."

"Well, Relic's nice too, so it was an even trade and if it's fine by you then that's all the matters," he reasoned with a nod before smirking once more. Making his way back off the bridge and toward the lightening Tribeca streets, Dusk threw his cigarette to the ground and stamped it out with his foot, Relic doing the same.

"Thanks for letting me go around with you. Much better than a bar," she said.

"No problem. Much better than being alone. Relieved you had a decent time, actually," he replied, as they drew nearer to his new home.

Letting out a relieved sigh when they got close to the lodging house, she rather suddenly punched him lightly in the shoulder and grinned. "Well, it's been fun, kid. I'll go in the front door, you go in through the roof. That way, only one of us will get caught."

"Why don't you go through the roof, and I'll get caught. I have a clean slate anyway, and people are bound to ask you more questions than me. Besides, you have more to lose," he offered, smiling tiredly, albeit genuinely.

"Maybe," she replied. Then, looking at him curiously, she mulled over his words before finally nodding. "Alright, I guess so. Thanks." Starting for the fire escape, she glanced back and gave him a half smile. "See you around, kid."

"Anytime. Well, so long as I can get away with it," he responded before making his way to the door. As she called from the fire escape, he nodded his head and replied, "See you around. Sleep well."

Making his way inside, sure enough he ran into Jade and gave her a decent enough excuse to warrant a warning before passing through to the bunkroom. Getting ready for a day's sleep, he groaned a bit as his body relaxed upon laying down. Rolling over as the others within the room began waking up to start their days, he thought over his own night and the events that occurred during it.

As the rustling in the boys washroom reached a heightened point with everyone arguing over specific stalls and sinks, Dusk closed his eyes and almost chuckled at the humor the evening had brought. Despite the hellish experiences, in his opinion, that he had dealt with since being in the lodging house, he supposed certain things, and people, made it worth it.


	6. Fighting Words

Authors Note: To everyone who has reviewed this, thanks a lot for your comments, they're greatly appreciated! Sorry it took me so long to update, but, alas, the next chapter is here. Half of this was written by Relic, so, bravo to her!

* * *

Days past slowly as Dusk and Relic typically remained alone, avoiding almost everyone but each other. After all, he spent his nights out doing what he had vowed to stop, and she spent what she had of her nights drinking her life away and stumbling into the lodging house at obscene hours, only to awaken at dawn to sell and start the day over again. Satire, who Dusk had hoped would be around enough to do as they had done in childhood and keep each other's minds off whatever they were doing to themselves or simply dealing with, was now busy sharing such thoughts with his newly turned fiancée, Snooza. Relic had isolated herself so far she had begun pushing away Ruin, the only one who had dealt with her for most of her life and cared to see her for what she was (or, at least, what she should have been).

In the passing summer weeks, many lodgers had come and gone in a sort of transitional period that occurred during certain seasons, this one being no different. However, Dusk felt a sense of familiarity and, oddly, hostility as his eyes laid on a lodger whom, this season, seemed to be in his "coming" phase. Watching as he signed his name and went about his business to the assigned bunkroom, Dusk couldn't help a sneer that formed across his face. There was something about that guy, though what, he couldn't put his finger on. Still didn't mean he couldn't reserve the right to hate the punk, or at least dislike him...a lot.

Risk, he had signed as his name in the worn ledger. Apparently even coming here, in Dusk's eyes, was a risk taken on this kid's part. Heading up to the bunkroom, his dislike for the boy grew upon seeing him looking through various jacket pockets and lifting pillows, searching the place. Most importantly, he was searching things that damn well didn't belong to him.

"Is there something I can help you with, kid?" Dusk asked, quietly, almost eerily, making his presence known.

Jumping at the voice, Risk turned quickly and replied simply, "Looking for some matches." A likely story...At least, that's what Dusk's mind kept on repeating as Risk pulled a cigarette from his pocket.

"You know, if anyone catches you going through their shit, there will be hell to pay," Dusk offered, though not necessarily as a friendly warning, but a warning nonetheless. At that, he tossed the boy a box of matches, seeing as, with all the cigarettes he smoked in a day, he kept his collection fully stocked.

"Point taken," Risk replied. "So, what's your name?"

"Dusk, and who might you be?" Of course, as seemed to be his luck, before he could get any information, despite already knowing his name, out of the kid, in popped Relic. It could have been worse, he supposed; it could have been one of those adolescent princesses he tended to block out.

"Hey, Dusk, could I-" she started, then stopped suddenly when she realized that not only was he standing in the doorway of the bunkroom, which was peculiar in and of itself, but he was talking to someone. Peeking past him, she glanced at the new boy and her eyes flashed for a moment. This had to be her lodger, assigned by Jade to show the ropes to and look out for, an assignment she for once wanted to take seriously. Being looked upon as the irresponsible leader had really gotten old. Extending her hand, she grinned widely, entirely oblivious to any previous tension.

"Hey, new, right? Nice to meet you, I'm Relic." As Risk smiled and shook her hand, introducing himself, Dusk couldn't help a sneer spread across his face.

"Could you what? If it's got something to do with finding anything, I'm sure Risk here would be more than happy to help," he uttered sinisterly, eyes not leaving the other boy.

"Never mind..." she started, looking between the boys and the finally starting to notice the growing tension that appeared to be accumulating between her new friend and the stranger.

It seemed to be a battle of wills, or at least keeping calm while making small barbs or sugar-coated smart ass comments back and forth as Risk replied, "Almost forgot to thank you for the light, by the way. Thanks."

At seeing the look that graced Dusk's face, something between a sneer and a smirk, she glanced awkwardly between the two, unsure if she wanted to get involved or just walk far, far away. "Uh, do you know where your bunk is? Because if you don't, I can show you, or I can just... go... and let you boys get back to whatever you were doing," she asked ineptly.

"He's right here, above me. Ain't that right kid?" said Dusk with a sinister smile, as he walked over to gesture to the bunk above his own. "We'll get along just fine... so long as you don't touch my shit."

"Of course he's not going to touch your things," she replied, surprised, and not a little disturbed, by Dusk's actions toward the new lodger. The boy could be an asshole, sure enough, but not right out rude, and, especially, for no reason. She had to admit, most of the time, anyone who crossed him got what was coming to them, but, this new one, she wasn't so sure.

Figuring it best, for now, to give it a rest (considering the look Relic just fired his way), Dusk slumped down on his bunk and lit up his own cigarette, sneering at the little punk as he watched him exchange information politely with the girl, explaining his origin (Jersey, a great source of excitement from Relic ensued due to it being her dear homeland...pre-kicked-out-of-orphanage, of course) and his previous job in a factory south of Houston.

"Which factory?" Dusk asked with curiosity, feigned as it may have been. Though, at the question, he could swear a hint of panic crossed the boy's face before his calm demeanor took over once more. Perhaps it was his obvious distaste, but, he wasn't going to let it slide so easily.

"A textile one by King Street," he answered nonchalantly, as if this was old news.

"You ever see any children get their fingers ripped off? Little girls get their pigtails pulled out? Heard some pretty brutal things, just interested," Dusk asked, arching an eyebrow as Relic's jaw nearly dropped to the floor.

"What the hell is wrong with you?" she asked, not waiting for an answer for Risk, which he was sure the bastard was all too pleased about. Snarling, Dusk rose and took her by the arm, pulling her out of the bunkroom entirely and letting the door slam behind them. Sure, he was leaving Risk to do more of his snooping, but, that seemed to be the lesser of two evils at the moment.

"I don't trust the kid."

"So you're just going to be a jackass to him?" Relic countered, crossing her arms.

"I came in and he was going through other lodgers' things. What the hell would you do? There's something about him, and, on top of that, he's sticking his nose where it damn well doesn't belong." His statements loosened her up slightly, though, there was still a look of determination in her eyes. This was her first lodger, or the first one she was going to take responsibility for, so she'd be damned if she was going to allow Dusk to be a dick to him because of his gut 'feeling'. She never listened to hers, why should she listen to his? Though, he hadn't steered her wrong yet...in the whole month he had known her.

"Maybe he's just a thief. This _is _a lodging house, and if anyone leaves their stuff around to get stolen to begin with _should _be robbed," she reasoned. "Look, I'll keep my eye on him, but could you try to be nice until you have more than a feeling of him being worse than any of the other jerks lodging here?"

"I'll _try_," he assured her, though with obvious distaste for the idea written on his face.

"Thank you," she replied grinning widely as if she had won some battle between them, bounding into the bunkroom once more.

Risk glanced up, looking a vision of innocence as he stood to welcome to the two back. Relic smiled in return, and Dusk managed a nod, though headed straight for his bunk in attempt to avoid any further contact with the boy.

He watched with mild distaste as she began to launch into the basic knowledge needed to live in the house, Risk nodding and smiling, though obviously catching only a bit of it. Finally she paused, looking decidedly bored. "I think that's it. Well, it probably isn't, but you'll figure it all out. You play poker?"

Risk's rather smug demeanor changed to one of confusion at her abrupt change in subject, but he caught himself after a moment and nodded. "Yeah, a little."

"Then how about we play a few hands? I mean, unless you've got something better to do." The look on her face plainly said that he'd better not have anything else to do as she reached into her pocket for a deck of cards. Glancing at Dusk, his look of disapproval caused her to raise an eyebrow. "Want to play, too?"

Dusk lay there for a moment, seemingly weighing his options. He could leave this boy to be scammed by Relic, and he would, indeed, be scammed by Relic. However, that would also mean him leaving her alone in the room with this "Risk" and he wasn't willing to, well, risk it.

"Deal me in," he replied, figuring he might as well win some money off the kid, or watch her do so, before killing him slowly. Of course, Dusk's acceptance of her offer made her smile wider, though, if it were because the boys were going to play nicely together or because she now had two people to win hands off of, was unclear.

Doing as instructed (as if she needed instructions), Relic dealt the cards to each player as they settled on the floor in the only clear spot they could find. It was a boys' bunkroom, and, as such, toxic fumes were more likely than floor space. None of them seemed to mind this so much as they looked over their cards, decided on their plan of action. Well, the boys were at least, as Relic leaned over slightly to make sure... yes...she _could _see Dusk's hand clearly.

"I can see yours too," he said, almost reading her mind. Though, the way her eyes had darted, it didn't take a genius to figure it out.

With an obvious look of disappointment, she looked over her own hand, moving cards around and uttering under her breath, "I'm not the one trying to cheat here. Mind your own cards... cheater."

"Right...sorry for cheating, won't happen again," he said, feigning an apologetic tone, though the look on his face gave it away, Risk simply grinning at the exchange between the two. "Would you fold in my position?" Dusk asked abruptly.

"Probably," she answered, without thinking, before amending it in a rather hurried voice, "I mean, how would I know? I wasn't the one cheating!" Realizing this perhaps didn't prove her point so well, she chose another tactic, ie. changing subject completely. "Who's in?"

"Fold," Dusk stated, throwing down his cards, though smirking at her despite his unfortunate luck.

"Two," Risk replied simply, throwing in two and looking over his cards with the replacements, betting back and forth for a few moments. "Time to see if those palmed cards of yours were worth the effort."

"Hey! I...fine..." she said, figuring she could tell off Dusk all she liked, but, for today, this kid would get off easy, as she showed her hand on the table. "Straight," she said proudly, Dusk almost laughing as she seemed to puff out her chest. Go figure, the girl had more pride in a cheated hand than an earned one.

"Seems so...two pair," Risk replied, watching as the girl eagerly took the few coins scattered on the table, smiling widely at the look on her face. Of course, the appearance on his own face caused Dusk to sneer and nearly punch it right off.

_Don't look at her like that, you cheap bastard, she's above you,_ he caught himself thinking. As Relic dealt another hand, the game flew by uneventfully, for the most part, save for when Relic's sly actions were caught being not-so-sly. At least, for now, they could keep up pretenses of getting along…

"There's nothing good," Ruin muttered, flipping through the pages of a newspaper as he and Relic made their way to their selling spot.

Relic glanced at him, rolling her eyes once he met her gaze. She had the worst hangover she could remember, and he wasn't helping. "If we waited for you to find something good, we'd starve. Give it to me, I'll find something."

His eyes narrowed slightly, and he looked for a moment like he was going to match her testy response with one of his own, but then seemed to think better of it and simply handed over the paper. "Something got you upset?"

"You know damn well what's got me upset." As his jaw seemed to snap shut and lock into place, she turned her scowl back onto the newspaper. "Okay, see? Right here. Thousands die in a train wreck right outside the city."

"I didn't see that…" His eyes fell on the article, and his frown deepened. "That's talking about the new bolts they're thinking of upgrading to for the tracks. Doesn't say a thing about a wreck."

She rolled her eyes again, and then winced at the pain it brought. "It does now, Genius."

"We're not lying," he said firmly, snatching the paper from her. "I don't mind you stretching the truth, but you're not going to lie all out, not about something like that. Selling may just have to be tight today."

She glared at him, shaking her head. "I'm going to use that headline, and I'm going to sell my stack, and if you don't like that, you can go find someone else to sell with. Some of us gotta make money to eat."

He laughed sharply. "Money to eat? You mean drink, right?"

That got her to stop right in her tracks. "You got something to say?"

The two were caught in a standstill for a long moment, glaring at each other with silent vehemence. She knew, deep down, that this wasn't how best friends were supposed to treat each other; this wasn't how she, and he, treated each other. But she also knew best friends weren't supposed to secretly loathe each other, either.

Finally, he broke away, turning down toward the sidewalk once more. "No. You're not worth the breath it'd take, you selfish little girl."

"Excuse me?" The stack of papers in her hands were long forgotten, dropped against the sidewalk pavement as she lunged forward, grabbing his arm and yanking him back (with substantial force, considering he stood a good head above her). "You know what? I've had it with your snide little comments. You want to talk about worth? Fine, let's talk about yours. You're a nothing, Ruin. You're not worth a damn thing to nobody, and no matter how hard you try, nothing's ever going to change that. Nobody ever wanted you; orphan, get it? The world knew you were a worthless piece of street trash from the minute your whore of a mother left you on that orphanage doorstep."

She wasn't sure just how all that had managed to slip from her mouth; none of it should ever have. She opened her mouth to take it back, to try and apologize and restore some of the lines she had just barreled over, but she couldn't quite seem to do it. However, she couldn't seem to make her eyes drift up to him, either, when she saw the beginnings of the man's face start to simply crumble.

He must have caught himself, though, as his low voice took on a hard, steady edge. "And I've had it with you. I may not be worth much, but I'm enough to take care of you, isn't that right? You were going to sell your stack? Right. Can you even remember the last time you sold your part of the stack? It's been a month, at least. I'm the one who makes sure you have food, a place to stay, and you pay me back by spitting on me? I guess I shouldn't be surprised; no telling how low you'll go, these days."

"I… I know. I'm sorry, I know you do, and what I said, it…" As the extent of the injuries she had just inflicted upon him began to register, she tried to desperately to ease it, though couldn't quite seem to force herself to apologize. Maybe because she just wasn't sorry.

He didn't seem to care, however. "Don't worry about it. I don't take what drunks say too seriously." When she opened her mouth to protest, he shook his head, jerking his arm out of her grasp. "You think because you spent another night in one of those disgusting back alley bars, it's okay for you to be as big of a bitch as you want to, to anyone you want to? Do you really think that's okay? I'm sick of you walking around here, acting like the world owes you for kicking you around so much. You haven't had it that bad! I think it's pathetic, how you slink around, drinking yourself stupid, feeling sorry for yourself. You've got it pretty damn good compared to most of the kids in this city, with a roof over your head, a job, and a guy stupid enough to clean up all your messes. What more do you want?"

"A best friend who loved me, still, would be a good start," she replied, though her comment lacked any edge to it as she stared at him, obviously still too taken aback to reply fully to his last words. Shaking her head, she looked back at him, setting her jaw. "How can you say all that? You know – I mean, after Harlem, I just can't… I've been through a hell of a lot."

"No, you put yourself through a hell of a lot, and you put me through a whole lot more. Don't try to guilt me, either; I love you," he replied coldly, his eyes hard, "I just can't stand to look at you, sometimes. And with what you've become, I don't know how you can stand to, either."

She wondered, briefly, why she didn't want to throttle him for the things he had said. It could have been the shock; malicious words had, previously, been rare in their friendship. Or possibly that it was him; she couldn't bring herself to harm him since the first day they met. However, after a few moments of icy silence, she realized it was neither of those; it was simply that he was right. And she knew it.

He seemed to register how far out of control the argument had spun, but she cut off his attempt to apologize. "If I'm so hard to look at, then why don't I just do us both a favor and leave? Then you'll never have to look at me again. I don't like Manhattan much, anyway." Turning on her heel, she started down the road quickly, before pausing. "At least _I _can admit how low I am. Bastard."

She stormed down the road, shock beginning to give way to anger as she headed back to the lodging house. For a moment, he debated going after her, but then simply shrugged, smiling at a young couple as they passed by and reaching down to get the newspapers. At least she hadn't completely destroyed his selling day.


	7. Farewell pt1

Storming out of the lodging house, the street lamps in the process of being lit to replace the rapidly setting sun, Relic looked back for a moment and, without so much as a second thought, said, "Farewell," to the building and all it stood for before making her way down the evening streets. Had she been able to process, well, anything, she may have taken the time to think things through and perhaps even second guess leaving entirely. However, Samantha Kates never took time to process, and certainly didn't hold a single rational thought in her head when she was anything above irritated.

What she hadn't banked on, however, was Dusk catching her out of the corner of his eye as he puffed away on one of his many cigarettes. If she had looked less irate, or even hadn't been carrying that worn bag over her shoulder, he would have just left her on her merry way. The fact of the matter was, she looked livid and she was, indeed, carrying a bag, a dead giveaway to a bad idea. He may not have known her long, a few weeks wasn't exactly a long relationship, but he knew that look in the eyes of anyone and wasn't about to let her leave without knowing why.

Catching up to her, he pulled her gently by the arm to face him, asking simply, "What are you running from so fast?"

"I'm not running from anything, I'm leaving," she stated, trying to jerk her arm from his grasp, not even attempting to look him in the eyes.

"Right, that's so much better than running. I can easily tell the difference," he spat sarcastically. Why he needed an answer was beyond him, but, he just knew he needed one and wasn't going to leave her alone until he damn well got one.

"Stop being a smart ass and just leave me the hell alone!" she yelled, more in desperation than anger. He didn't see why she was running, of course he didn't. However, she didn't have the time to unleash story time for the sake of some guy she met a few weeks ago. No, this went deeper than that, and she didn't owe him a damn thing.

Their predicaments kept them at a standstill, her wanting to leave and refusing to say why, him trying to keep her there, if only until he got some sort of explanation from her. Grabbing her, looking straight in her eyes, he replied sharply, "I'm not leaving until you at least have the decency to tell me what the hell is wrong with you."

"Are you _kidding_?" His sudden actions startled her, causing her to almost drop her bag. Insult to injury, as far as she was concerned. She was leaving friends of years back in that place without so much as a word; she surely wasn't going to give him some long drawn-out story, just because he damn well demanded it. She couldn't meet his eyes, however, as she went on.

"Nothing's wrong with me. And in case someone told you different, I never claimed to have no decency. Now get your hands off of me! Right now, damn it!" There, that was her warning. If he would just let her go, it would all be fine. Otherwise, she'd have to just do whatever it took; she _would_ be leaving.

"Like hell nothing is wrong with you. Stop acting like a damn lunatic and breathe, for Christ's sake," he retorted, very nearly losing his patience with her. Her own patience, on the other hand, didn't seem to stretch quite as long, as evident by her harsh right swing that hit straight into his jaw. Just enough to show him she wasn't kidding, that's what she wanted. Breaking away from his grasp, she shook her head, making her way down the sidewalk again. She was half-tempted to say something, but decided against it. Let him think what he wanted; he'd never see her again, anyway.

Taking a moment to collect his thoughts, he saw red suddenly and became the same person he was when she saw him in the warehouse. Grabbing her once more, pushing her against the nearest brick wall, he slapped her hard across the face.

"Don't _ever_ hit me again," he said carefully, eerily calm.

Well, she hadn't been expecting _that_. She touched her cheek, rather irritated at how it stung as though she was still being slapped. It also irritated her how traitorous her, well, everything was. He frightened her. Nothing scared her!

...Well, that was a huge lie. But, half-tempted as she was to just stop and apologize (and get back to a place with people around), her sense of purpose wouldn't allow it. She had to get out of here. She hadn't wanted to hurt him; but now, now she would just out of spite.

"Get the hell off of me and out of here, you damn Jew," she spat. A weak insult at best, but she could never get herself to utter terms used to slant a whole group of people. She had standards, after all…or something. This time she used her elbow right on his nose, and didn't hesitate to take off. She'd run all night before she went toe to toe with him.

Yelling out the first thing that came to mind once the shock of being elbowed in the nose had died down, Dusk shouted to anyone and everyone, "Stop her, she stole my wallet!"

She hesitated, stunned. _Did he just say_... she didn't have any more time to think about it, however, before a hand wrapped itself around her hair and swung her to the ground. Looking up as soon as the pain in her knees subsided, she frowned; it wasn't even a bull, just some random man standing on the street with his buddies, probably about to go to a bar. Figured. Wouldn't lift a finger to save a dying whore, but when it came to a girl stealing another man's wallet, suddenly all the Samaritans came out.

"It's a lie! He's lying! Damn it!" She clawed at the man's iron-like grip on her hair, to no avail. The bulls could be here any minute, and despite her need to get away, she didn't want to go anywhere they might take her. She'd take even the bulls over Dusk, however. "Do you see a wallet in my hands? Let me go! You don't understand! You..."

She went on to let a string of curses that really didn't quite all fit together, but it hardly mattered anyway, for all the man did was laugh and shake her a bit as Dusk approached. Nodding to the man, giving him a quarter in thanks, he picked her up off the ground, leading her into an alley.

"I won't kick you, I wont punch you, but if you do anything like what you just did again, I will slap you again and next time, with the back of my hand, go it?" he said, pinning her arms to her side, pinning her legs with one of his so no ball kicking could occur.

She stood there, furious. Beyond furious. She thought she couldn't get any angrier that night; she was wrong. She had been upset to begin with, and now, this blow to the ego? Oh, she was seething. Why couldn't he just let her go? Granted, the elbow to the face probably didn't help persuade him, but rational thought had long gone.

"How noble. Big man, there. That was really damn impressive. You're a damn coward, you know that? Doin' what you do under the cover of the dark, hidin' it away from everybody, pullin' stuff like that. I ain't scared of a coward, that's for sure."

She was stretching, she knew it. But she didn't care; anything to push his buttons, get him to slip up and let her go. If she hadn't felt trapped in this place before, being pinned to a wall left no room for question.

"I may be a fucking coward, but at least I don't run. I may hate what I do, but I don't run from it. I take the shit that comes with it. What the hell is your excuse, little girl?" he hissed angrily, teetering dangerously close to the edge.

"Yeah, you take it real well. You just can't tell your daddy what you do. Runnin' is better than hidin'." Actually, she wasn't so sure that there was much of a difference, but she wasn't about to say that, so she ignored the doubts running through her head and simply kept speaking out of rage instead of rationality. "Get your disgustin' hands off of me. And while you're at it, just go to hell."

"My dad is all I have left, little girl. Leave him out of this. This is between me and you, and whatever damn problems you're laboring under. And, in case you didn't catch it the other night, I don't believe in hell."

The mention of her entire problem, and all the issues surrounding it, residing between the two of them, something they could take out and make go away, almost caused her to laugh. This wasn't some scam gone wrong, some friend problem that she just needed to sit down and think through. This was her whole life, and no one could help her fix the shambles it was in. She was doing him a favor, really, pushing him away, not dragging him down. Cruel to be kind, one had to be, sometimes. At least, that's what she told herself.

"We ain't even friends, _kid_. You don't even know me. All you got left? What about your mom? You never said nothin' 'bout her, did she leave? I would have, with a kid like you."

Her eyes widened in surprise as soon as the words left her mouth. That was too much, too far, even for her, even now. Guess that's what he got, for trying to help. "I'm..." she began, before stopping. Yeah, she was wrong. But, she couldn't herself to say sorry; whether he hated her or not, she couldn't let up, not for a moment. She'd lose it, give up, and go back. And that was unacceptable.

At the mention of her mother, he no longer controlled his actions. Backhanding her, his knuckles coming in contact with her cheekbone, he looked dead into her eyes. Saying in a low voice, practically whispering, he savagely said "My mother is dead, you bitch, and she took my little sister with her. Don't ever bring her up to me again."

In retrospect, a plan that didn't involve making him upset enough to hit her would have been a good idea. It hurt like _hell_. Her face flushed, save for the place that was rapidly forming bruise. She bowed her head, partly because it was as close as she could get her stinging cheek to her soothingly cool hand, and partly from remorse. She would have killed someone for saying what she had said. But hurting people was apparently her mission in life.

That's why she needed to go in the first place. If he would only let her go, she'd be happy to stop. She wasn't worth this trouble, didn't he realize that? What did she have to say for him to understand that? She was trying to make him understand, damn it! Just throw her down and walk away, for crying out loud!

"I'll say what I want, and a slap won't stop me, ever! Good, I'm glad they are! You don't deserve havin' good people around you, if they even were good people!" She was shouting now, anger returning with renewed force. He didn't, of course, deserve it. But at this point, this close to panicking, she'd say anything that sounded good.

He felt blind as she spoke. This wasn't the girl he showed around Hell's Kitchen, this wasn't who he introduced to his father and walked from one side of Manhattan to the other. Grabbing around her neck, fury enveloping him as the temptation to squeeze became greater with each passing moment. He could hurt her…

Letting her go before he strangled her or ripped her limbs from their sockets, his sharp, rapid breathing and the anger in his eyes didn't even begin to show what he was feeling on the inside.

"I hope you rot in the gutter, you damn coward bitch."

Her hands came to her neck after he spoke those harsh words, her eyes never leaving him as she gingerly touched the imprints his fingers had left. Pushing him over the edge hadn't been part of her plan... and it felt pretty horrid.

"I'm sorry," she whispered, as she backed away from him and toward the exit. "I'm just trying to do what's right. I... I didn't mean it."

She sighed, shaking her head. She could say it now, now that she had an open exit, but what good did it do? She got what she wanted; but she wasn't so sure she had managed to get away from him before she hurt him.

"What in hell causes you to be like this? How can you be normal and easy to talk to one day and a savage wench the next? What causes a person to do this? Do you enjoy it?" he asked, both confused and angry. He couldn't just forgive her after the things she had said, standing there waiting for an answer, any answer.

She stopped at the edge of the alley, glancing around. If she needed to, when she needed to, she could run from here; this time, nothing would make her pause. She guessed she owed him answers, though, at least a couple, before she left.

"I have to go. You got in the way. I tried to tell you!" Oh, now she was sorry. Her anger had fled at the idea of losing her life, the coward, and now all she had was another regret to add to the long list. "I'm sorry. This is how I am, really; that other day; that was just a fluke."

"A fluke that lasted five hours? I'm supposed to believe this is you? Well, why not? When I met you, you were running from something. It's not like you're doing any different now. What in the hell are you running from? Just answer me that."

Unconsciously, her fingers brushed along her bruised cheekbone as she thought for a moment. "I don't know," she sighed, frowning. "Myself... probably." It was a simple answer, but she wasn't prepared for how wretched it caused her to feel. She couldn't think about this now; or ever, really. "I need to go."

"Why?" he asked simply, his voice calmer and more collected.

"_Why_?" She almost laughed, and almost cried, and got herself stuck somewhere in between. "It's not me I'm worried 'bout! It's everyone else!"

She fidgeted, adjusting her bag and looking down the street again. She hated it; that weak part in her that wanted so badly to stop, to stay. It held her here, while the rest of her screamed at her to leave. She should, anyway; who knew when he'd come to his senses and come after her again? Not that she didn't deserve it. Gods above, her head hurt. "I don't want to get over it. I just want to get away from it."

"What is so damn bad about you? Trust me, I've seen worse. I can guarantee that I am worse. Do you even know where you're going, who you can go to?" he asked, trying for her to at least have some logic.

Well, she wasn't going to dispute _that_ fact. Nonetheless, she shook her head. "I... hurt people. A lot." Stating that to someone who was paid to physically damage others, she supposed it sounded silly. But it was the best explanation she had.

Her shoulders sagged at his last question. "No, I don't. But I'll find some place, somewhere to go. I can handle it," she said, though whether it was to answer him or reassure herself, she wasn't sure. Could she handle it? She'd always been with Ruin, and she had the sneaking suspicion he had a lot to do with many of the places they were offered shelter in. But, no. No. She was grown, now; she could take care of it.

"I hurt people a lot. Why I can deal with it and you can't is beyond me. Now, after spending that night with me around the city, do you really feel you can do this on your own?" he asked.

"Because you barely know the people you hurt!" she shot back, frowning. Her temper flared for a moment, but then it was gone. "Or maybe you're just better than me. I don't know."

After spending up to now on _this_ night with him made her unsure of whether she could handle it. "No," she said truthfully, before shrugging. "But I can't stay here. So, that's my option; I'll have to do it."

"Would you at least tell me what the hell happened to make you hell bent on fucking up whatever life you've made for yourself here? Can you at least do that before I leave you to get slaughtered and raped by people I happen to know and pass on a daily basis?"

"I won't get... that won't happen," she shook her head, though looked slightly uncertain. "Why do you care, anyway?" she demanded angrily, though more upset at the idea of trying to decipher and speak about all the thoughts running through her head than anything else. "You barely know me! And you nearly strangled me!"

"I...I don't fucking know why I care, alright? I just feel this overwhelming need to either keep you safe or keep you practical. Would you at least sit down, calm down, and think for maybe a minute. Not even a whole minute, ten seconds will do, and figure out what the hell you are going to do if you actually do leave and whether its truly worth the risk," he said, becoming a smidge frustrated.

"Fine. But, only for a minute." And only because she figured she owed it to him, with the low comments she had dealt him. "But I already know I'm leaving," she warned, as she threw her bag against the alley wall and sitting, leaning against it. "Guess it couldn't hurt to figure out where."

Relieved, he took a seat beside her and offered her a cigarette. At this moment, he didn't know what to do with her, how to feel towards her. Part of him cared, and he didn't know why, but another part of him wanted to slap her again.

"Could you go back to Harlem? Is there anyone you know there?" he asked.

She took the cigarette gladly, waiting for a light. At his question, however, she nearly dropped it in surprise, before shaking her head. "I'm _never_ goin' back to Harlem," she said vehemently, before calming herself a bit. "Harlem's out of the question."

Lighting the match and taking the hint, he moved on to other places. "Know anyone around Houston, the Village...or maybe even outside of Manhattan. How many people do you know in Brooklyn or Staten Island? Anywhere..."

She shook her head, taking a long drag off her cigarette before exhaling slowly. "Nah. Anywhere we... I stayed before, only came out with another enemy. I mean, I got a few people here and there; but none of them got room for me."

Where would she go? She hadn't really thought of it; just get on a train, and go where it took her (or wherever it was that they discovered she had stowed away). It was okay, though, she supposed she could think of it; _that_, she could handle thinking about.

"There's a place open at Hell's Kitchen, at least until you get on your feet, if you need to leave. I'm still failing to comprehend your reasoning behind it, that's all," he said, flicking off the ashes.

"You mean your old bunk?" she asked, her tone making it rather obvious what her answer would be. "I'm already on my feet. Nah, I'm getting out of this city, for sure; the state, if I can."

Looking over at him, she sighed and drew her knees up to her chest, resting her arms on them. "I'm running," she said at last, looking away. "I can't deal with things that happened, and I see 'em starting to happen again, and I won't let it happen. I don't know how to fix it, so runnin' is all I can do." She shrugged. A perfectly good explanation, she thought to herself, before rolling her eyes. As perfect as she could get without getting in too deep.

"Do you not understand that you're going to keep running? That you're going to keep doing whatever you're doing unless you actually deal with it. Whatever the hell it is. Look...I'll make deal with you. You face with whatever the hell you're dealing with, and Ill stop doing side jobs for gang members," he said. Of course, inside a second he realized what he had just uttered and nearly panicked at the knowledge that, if she agreed, he'd have to honor it.

"Really?" This evening was just full of surprises. But now she was confused. She wanted to simply say no, and probably would have, except... she had seen how much he hated those gang members, doing their bidding. If she agreed to this, maybe he'd get his chance at redemption. He deserved it. But was it worth her end of the deal? And even if she wanted to, could she even hold up her end? And why the hell was he so willing to give up a habit he'd been doing for so long, just like that? If he was going to give it up anyway, she wasn't going to be suckered into some crazy deal. She narrowed her eyes. "Why?"

"I don't know," he said quietly, honestly. "I guess because I can't tell you to do something while being a hypocrite. If I'm asking you to do something that's hard for you, that could cause you a lot of problems but will help you in the long run, I have to be willing to do the same thing. I can't keep working for those men, and maybe with you kicking my ass and telling me, 'You fucking promised' I'll be able to cut ties with it all."

"I guess so..." she said, looking warily at him. It made sense. Damnit. She let out a dry laugh as she registered his offer, however. "I think we've established just how well I can kick your ass. I could do the constant reminders... I guess, though, _if_ I was going to do it, and _if_ I was going to stay. Can't you just make that deal with somebody else?" And ease the damn guilt. "Everybody back at that lodgin' house could do good with a deal like that."

"No one else will do. You're the only one. I can't keep slapping you. Doesn't feel right. Which reminds me, sorry about your face," he uttered sincerely, "I'm far from a gentleman, I think."

"No, you're not," she shook her head, shivering slightly as his enraged face flashed through her mind and she was reminded of her throbbing cheek. "But it's okay; I hit you first, after all. 'Sides, I deserved it. You sure ain't a gentleman, though. They'd have at least gone inside a private buildin' before smacking a girl around."

The faintest hint of a smile appeared on her lips as she hugged herself tighter with one arm, and reached over with her other hand and touched the bridge of his nose. "How's this? I shouldn't have hit you. I was just tryin' to get the hell away from here."

"Hey, you insulted my mother and my baby sister, you're lucky I didn't pull out anything sharp and shiny," he said with a grin. Wincing as she touched the bridge of his nose, he gave her a smirk and said, "Well, you may not be able to fight well, but you know how to at least hurt a guy."

"I did not! Oh... wait... yeah, that was bad. I'm sorry, I didn't mean it," she frowned, genuinely unhappy with those actions. Insulting the dead was low, even by her standards. She drew her hand back into her lap quickly when he winced, frown deepening, before she lightened up slightly and allowed a small smirk to cross her face. "Hey, I'm a good fighter! Just not seriously, against guys twice my size, who make a livin' fightin' other guys twice my size."

"Might not be making a living of it for much longer, if you take me up on that deal," Dusk reminded her, though the humor that had been there had since disappeared from his tone.

"It's a nice idea. And if we could just sit here forever and think 'bout it, that'd be one thing. But I don't think I could keep a deal like that. Hell, I wouldn't even know where to start."

"Well, you could start by going inside and unpacking...and I could start by having you tail me for the night and see what I do...Its a good thing I didn't have any jobs planned yet..." he said, still slightly anxious at what Mallet Murphy's reaction would be upon hearing Dusk's resigning his hardass night time occupation.

"I really don't think this is a good idea. If I go back there, I'm just gonna hurt somebody else. I already did, and I'm just gonna keep messing up. What if... could I just... tail you first, and I'll unpack in the mornin'?" There. That would give her time to see if he would really go through with it or not, and give her time to get up the nerve to either go back in the lodging house, or, after he had begun to break ties, tell him she was going. It was a win-win, as far as she was concerned.

"I know its not the easiest thing for you, but would you rather try and mend things with whoever you hurt, as difficult as it may be, or would you have them go the rest of their lives with...whatever you said...being your last words to them? Look, if you really want, you can tail me first, but you're unpacking straight in the morning alright? This is just as hard on me as it is for you...and if I'm getting my ass kicked tonight, then you can unpack tomorrow." It was true...though he wasn't technically a Gopher, he would still be risking a punch in the face or two...or twelve...for resigning as an ally.

"I'd rather tail you first," she nodded, not even wanting to think of how the morning would go. Fat chance in hell she'd be making up with the wounded party, and she still wasn't sure she wouldn't bolt, despite the unspoken agreement. One step at a time, though. "They wouldn't really beat you up, would they? I mean, you wouldn't have to take it, would you?"

Dusk nodded, figuring he could at least go first seeing as it was his idea. "Yeah, they would. Its an unspoken contract. If you are in some way associated with these men, when you cut ties or make bad on a deal, they take up to beating you. Thats what I did, for the most part. Now it's my turn, I guess. Ironic a bit. Though, they won't go as bad on me as I went on some of the others. Bloody nose, bruises, maybe a cracked rib...nothing life threatening. So long as I don't snitch on them later..."

Relic frowned, playing with her cigarette for a long moment. Despite the earlier hits, she wasn't too keen on seeing him get actually hurt... but hey, it was his deal. "And they'll just let you walk away, once it's finished? They won't try nothin' crazy?"

"No...its pretty much a 'beat him and leave him' sort of thing. They wont force you to watch or hold me down and beat me within an inch of my life. Its just, every member gets at least one hit. Sort of a twisted way of saying goodbye, I guess."

But she knew as well as he did that second chances were rare. It was nice to say, however. "I guess," she nodded. "If you say so. Let's go, then, huh? The sooner, the better."

At her insistence on them moving ahead to his imminent doom, he sneered slightly and sighed. "I guess I have no choice," he replied, getting up and tossing his cigarette to the ground.

Doing the same, she nodded, reaching down to grab her bag. "It'll be better to get it over with; don't want to sit 'round thinkin' about ways to talk yourself out of it, right?"

"Yeah, just keep my mind off of it until we get there, alright? I don't want to be dwelling on it through a half hour walk."

Hesitating, she figured she owed him that, at least, she guessed, as she readjusted her bag. She'd bolt at the end of this night, she decided; but until then, might as well do as much good as she could. With a lifetime of screw-ups on her side, she needed to do as much good as she could to try and make up for it. "I can do that, I think. I'm a good distraction."

"What happened in the lodging house to make you so angry, or at least so ready to leave? Hurting people is a human thing, why would you leave over it? This is your life?" he asked calmly, in a soothing voice hoping she wouldn't take offense.

"I got in a fight, with a good friend of mine. I just... realized that there was some stuff I couldn't fix, I guess, with him, with everythin'. That's why we came here, you know, to fix things, get a better life. Doesn't make sense to stay if that ain't gonna happen." She gave him a smile, but it didn't reach her eyes. "Can't leave it all behind you if you take it all with you, or somethin' like that. He was upset 'cause of my drinking, I guess, that's what pretty much started it. I'm not a drunk."

She gave him a look, as if to tell him without words that she was saying the truth; she _wasn't_ a drunk, she _didn't_ drink too much. As if reassuring him would reassure her, as well. She wanted to counter with a question of her own, but stopped herself. He had just asked to keep his mind _off_ that subject, asking a question about it wouldn't help.

"You know, people say things they don't mean. If I left Sat or any of the others because I said something stupid...well...I wouldn't have any of them left, that's for damn sure. Things happen, people say things. Just because you may try and move on your own doesn't mean its going to go away. You can't just leave when you say something you regret," he said. He wanted her to understand that a fight, no matter how big, should never be the end.

She was silent for a long time, before letting out a small laugh. "I never said I regretted it." Another pause. Maybe she did regret it, judging from the pang in her gut. But who regrets the truth? "Meant all of it," she shrugged, kicking a rock that strayed in her path, a bad habit she had picked up somewhere down the line when she was uncomfortable.

"Right, that's why you're so upset about hurting him," he said, eying her suspiciously. Oh she could get angry all she wanted about what he just said, but he could see right through her. "Whatever you said to whoever is killing you, whether you want to admit it or not."

"I'm not fucking upset, all right? Shut up!" she snapped, then frowned when she realized that probably hadn't helped her case. It wasn't fair, though, damn it. He shouldn't be able to read her like a book! "I'm not upset about what I said," she said, trying to wrestle her temper back down. "I'm... not happy, 'cause it was true."

Dusk simply shook his head. Who was she trying to convince? What was she trying to prove? "Fair enough...you're not happy with what you said because what you said was true and hurtful. Well, a lot of hurtful things are truths."

She visibly relaxed. "Yeah... yeah, that's true, ain't it?" Going to shove her hands into her pockets (then growling upon the realization that she was no longer in trousers), she sighed in exasperation. She didn't care if it did take his mind off what he was about to do; she couldn't talk about this anymore. However, in trying to avoid herself, as well as keep him from thinking about whatever he was sure to think about, kind of left her without a thing to say.

However, as the minutes and blocks past by them, she looked up at his face and found she couldn't keep silent any longer. With her, being able to keep her mouth shut that long should have earned her a medal. Furrowing her eyebrows, she tried to think of the best way to approach it, before shrugging and just asking, "Hey, I know I'm 'spose to be keepin' you distracted from this, but could I ask you a question?"

"Sure, I guess I owe ya that," he said calmly, politely.

"Well, I just... I guess I just wondered, why you came to the lodging house, and still kept doin' those... errands. I mean, you came to get away from it, right? So why didn't you just stop then? Or why didn't you just stop completely, and stay with your friends?"

"I don't know...habit. It was all I really knew. I have been involved with them since a little after my mother died...almost half my life. They pay me good money and I'm good at it. It's strange to explain, I guess. I'm not sure if it was an addiction, but it was a bad habit."

She flashed him the softest smile she could manage, and nodded. "Alright. Well, after tonight, it'll all be over, right? And you can start tellin' your dad what you do with your nights."

"Right..." he said, kind of dazed. He had lived this life for almost 9 years, would he really be able to give it up despite his hatred for it? He supposed he could try, and if she ever went back on her deal then he could do the same.

"Right," she nodded, frowning as he seemed to drift away once they hit the barely familiar streets of the Kitchen. So much for keeping him occupied. "What's on your mind?" she tried, raising an eyebrow.

"I'm not so sure I can do this..." he said quietly. He felt weak. He had wanted this for so long, but it really was like an addiction. It was his way of getting back at society, religion, something.

"Come on, we're what, almost there? Of course you can do this. Snap out of it! You hate these bums! They treat you like their whore, right?" she flushed, quickly amending that statement. "You know, only not. You don't _need_ the money. And you sure as hell don't need the stress. Besides, what 'bout when they start asking you to take people out, completely?"

She put a finger in front of his face to emphasize her point, careful not to touch him. "This was your idea, your deal. You back out, and I'm out of here, right now. Make up your damn mind." She really, truly wanted him to keep his end of the deal, even if she wasn't going to keep hers. It was his chance to redeem himself, and her chance to help him, make up for her sins and perhaps even a slight chance at redemption herself.

"If I do this, you don't leave, alright. I mean that. You let me go through with this, and the second we leave that building, you have completely signed a contract with me to stay in the lodging house got it?" he said, completely firm. He needed to know she wasn't going to back down.

"Yeah, yeah, I got it," she nodded, doing her best to look reassuring. In all truth, she really couldn't promise that. But she'd say whatever it took to get him to end this. "It'll all be over so quick, you'll wonder why you didn't do it sooner, I bet," she smiled.

"Yeah, I bet," he said under his breath as they approached the street. He felt his stomach get weak. He wasn't weak, damn it. But, then again, he had never told Mallet Murphy 'no' before. "You don't have to come inside. You can stay out here if you want."

"Out on the street?" She tossed him an incredulous look. "Nah, I want to be with you. Could you give me another cigarette, though?" _I think I'll be needing one._

"Are you sure?" he asked, though kind of pleased she wanted to go up and managing to smile when she nodded. Sighing deeply, he tried to keep some sort of sense of humor, considering it was about to be knocked out of him, as he handed her the rest of his pack. "Even if you don't smoke them all, put them in my mouth for me if I can't," teased...sort of...maybe...

"That won't be necessary, I bet," she shook her head, but took the pack and looked down at it with a slight frown. "Now quit stallin'. It'll be okay. You said so."

Nodding, taking a deep breath, and giving her a smile for the hell of it, he opened the door and went straight to one of the gang members, demanding to speak to Murphy. After being told his whereabouts, he refused to hesitate, making his way to the top room where he, as well as several of his closer members, were lounging around playing cards and looking at filthy publications.

"Dusk, my dear boy, so good to see you. Though, I have to say, you're a little early."

"I'm just here to tell you that I'm not doing any more of your errands," he said firmly.

"Look, if its a matter of money, I just-"

"Its not the money, Murphy. I just don't want a part of it anymore."

Murphy suddenly became noticeably enraged.

"You dirty snitch, you-"

"I didn't rat you out or betray you either, damn it. Calm down. I just don't want to do it anymore. Its time to move away from it, that's all. You knew I wouldn't do this forever. I told you I wouldn't"

Murphy calmed down once more, and became pensive and slightly melancholy.

"It'll be a shame to lose you kid, you sure another raise wouldn't entice you?"

"No. It won't. I'm done with it."

His palms were sweating, but the dead determination never left his eyes. Murphy stood up, the others following suit.

"Fair enough kid," he said, putting on a set of brass knuckles, one of his larger men moving to hold him. Using his arms to pin Dusk's arms behind his back and keep him steady, Murphy threw the first punch, the brass connecting with his cheekbone. He felt a rush of warm blood where the edge of the knuckles had split his skin, a sharp pain erupting from his cheek caused him to wince slightly. He couldn't show how much it really hurt. The more you showed, the more they hit you. He knew this for a fact.

Relic lit her cigarette as Murphy took the first swing, nearly dropping it as she heard the knuckles connect with Dusk's face. Looking up, she watched with glossy eyes as the men began to get in their own turns; their own blows.

Taking slow, shaky puffs off the cigarette, she thought with mild bemusement of how she was wincing more than he was.

Finally she dropped it to the ground and stepped on it, unable to stay calm enough to hold it any longer. Besides, she needed a hand to cover her mouth; it was the only way to keep from crying out as the blows began to bring forth more blood. He made it sound as if this was a simple thing, a bit of an irritance but no huge deal.

It was a huge deal, at least to her. Unable to take anymore, she turned away, looking at a different spot in the room. She cringed at the sound of each punch, but she wouldn't leave the room; she had said she'd be with him, and with him, she'd be.

"Gosh damn it, isn't that enough?" she shouted, finally at the end of her rope. What the hell were they trying to do, kill him? She didn't care what he said; they weren't going easy on him!

At Relic's outburst, Murphy motioned for the one holding him to let him go. Knees buckling, Dusk hit the ground with a painful thud.

"You heard the lady," was all he said, as all the men backed off. They watched him lay there for a moment, trying to catch his breath, simply staring at him.

Pushing himself up slowly, Dusk tried to take deep breaths, the sharp pain in his ribs not allowing him to do so. Spitting out the blood accumulating in his mouth, he watched as Murphy made his way over to him. Instead of seeing his hand come down on him yet again, it simply was offered as help getting up. Hesitating at first, Dusk took it, feeling odd standing once more.

"Get outta here, kid," was all he said, before turning on his heel and returning to the poker game, the rest of the members doing the same as if nothing ever happened. He just wanted to make it out of the building without falling. Almost refusing to look Relic straight in the eye, he opened the door, allowing Relic to leave before him, looking down to watch where he was stepping. Making it down the stairs was the hardest part, and he breathed a sigh of relief as he safely hit the bottom floor. Pushing himself outside into the street and in a back alley, he collapsed on the ground. He just wanted to sleep...


	8. Farewell pt2

Relic followed him out of the building, doing all that she could not to just reach over and help him; she knew he had to do it on his own. Once he collapsed in the street, however, all pretenses were off. Dropping down beside him, she pulled him up a bit, holding his head up. She wasn't going to let him choke on his own blood, after all.

"That was easy, huh?" she whispered, meaning it to come out a lot harsher than it actually did. "You better not pass out, 'cause I can't drag you all the way back. You're in sorry shape," she shook her head, using her free hand to rummage through her bag for something to clean the blood off with, as best she could. "But you sure did good."

"At least...they didn't...use a pipe," he breathed out, trying to smile but the cuts in his lip wouldn't allow him to. He was proud of himself. Despite the feeling of total hell, he felt good about himself. He was finished with it. It was over and done with. "It could be worse I guess..." he said as he started to catch his breath.

"Yeah, they could'a killed you," she grunted, shaking her head. It was all going so fast, she almost didn't have time to notice how the man whose head was now current resting on her knees had gone from looking terrifying to terrible in the past... hour or so. Almost, anyway.

Of course, the same thoughts passed through his head as he lay there, bleeding on the concrete, his head resting on her knees as he looked up at her. It was strange to be at her care, her mercy even, after what he had done to her.

"You got worked over real good, though, pipe or no pipe. You bleed like you got a leak," she informed him after a while, trying to shake off the odd feelings that encompassed her.

It took a while of short breaths from his end and quietly wiping away the blood to further inspect the damage on hers before more words were exchanged. Relic sighed deeply as she ripped away part of her shirt and put it against his bleeding lip, refusing to look him in the eyes. "Sorry I yelled at 'em like that," she said, looking sincerely regretful. "I know you could'a handled it, I just... wasn't sure they were gonna stop. And it ain't much fun watchin' you get beat up, anyway."

"After the last hour, I thought it would have been a show for you, honestly," he said with a slight smirk, wincing slightly as it further opened the cut. "Look, I'll be fine. Don't worry about it. I'm just glad it's over, is all."

Relic smirked as well, but looked away and didn't respond until she was satisfied his face was blood-free, for now, at least. Bruised and battered, maybe, but blood-free. "Yeah, yeah, sure. Is anything broken?" She couldn't help but smile at his next words, however, dropping her stern tone. "You don't regret it none, do you?"

"My body does. I Think a few ribs are broken, not sure what else…but I'll be fine. After I heal a bit, though, I'll get over it. It's for the best and I know it," he replied, looking straight into her eyes despite the fact that one was black, the other almost entirely swollen shut. "Still a bit surprised you weren't cheering them on a bit, though."

Returning to his gaze finally, Relic fidgeted a bit, more than a bit uncomfortable and confused. Here she was, taking care of the same guy that slapped her good only a few hours back. Of course, it was rather ironic, this turn of events. "Well, you did clock me pretty good. But I'm just soft, I guess."

"You? Soft? Why am I having problems seeing that?" he teased before adding, "Thanks for not joining in with them."

"I can be soft!" she exclaimed, then emphasized her point by nearly dropping his head off her knees altogether. "Uh, sorry. Yeah, soft ain't my thing. I'll leave that to the schoolboys. 'Sides," fidget. Shrug. Another fidget. Gods above, she hated this. But hell, he was so beat up, he probably wouldn't remember much of any of this come morning. "I kind'a care 'bout you, bad-tempered or not. I don't care about many people, so, I'd rather not see the ones I do... you know, get hurt. Don't know why... must be all the damn cigarettes you give me."

He suddenly looked at her seriously. "I care about you too, kid. I still don't know what made me try and talk you into staying, but I'm hoping you're going to keep your promise," he said quietly, hoping he wouldn't remember that he told her all this later. Maybe she would pass it off as him being knocked stupid.

"If only to get ya off my back," she added, chuckling. No, staying didn't sound appealing. But she would at least get him back to the lodging house and asleep before she took off. "All right, tell me when it hurts," she nodded, before moving to run her fingers over his chest (and she was not blushing, damnit!). Absently, she grinned. "You'll feel good tomorrow morning... uh, or maybe the afternoon. You'll never have to see those bastards again."

"It hurts," he said, wincing almost immediately. He felt her hands move over his chest (he wasnt blushing, damn it!) and replied, "Ill give it a week at least." His breathing was labored and when he thought the throbbing might be dying down, another sharp pain informed him otherwise.

"Damnit, they really did a good job," Relic muttered, frowning. "I don't 'spose you could... you know... fine."

Arguing (basically with herself) always made her feel a bit better before she had to go do something that made her uncomfortable. Pushing his bloody shirt back, she struck a match and lowered it to his chest. "Great. You look like a great big bruise. Tell me if these feel worse than the rest of you," she said, poking the darker bruises lightly, along with some of the surrounding area. And say it quick, damnit, so I can put your damn shirt back on. Next time you want to get beat up, you do it with someone else around to play nurse!

He closed his eyes tightly as she touched his stomach and chest. "Damn that hurts," he breathed out. He felt shy about his shirt being off, the top half of his body exposed to her…Not that she was seeing much in the dark with half of him being so bruised he might as well be wearing a black and blue shirt. However, it was the principle of the thing, not to mention a slight hint of shyness in regards to his physical appearance. Ego or no ego, he still had a bit of uneasiness when it came to exposing himself to women folk.

"I'm gonna wrap these up before you move anywhere, understand? You punc... pun... pop a lung, and I really will have to carry you, and you're damn heavy," she smirked, before looking decidedly cheerier. "On the bright side, looks like you only broke three of 'em. Or maybe four, I ain't real sure. Sorry that I hurt you; I can't see real well, so I just wanted to make sure. Sorry." Turning away from the shirtless man, she began again to dig through her bag (thankfully, the move hid her face, which had become insanely red at the whole affair). "I'm just glad this is you, and not, you know, Pomp or somethin'," she said, shaking her head at the thought of her highly smug (and highly over sexed) friend being in the same position as she blew out the match.

"Fine, play that way…wait did you call me fat?" he asked, adjusting himself on her knees as he smiled up at her, before another sharp pain caused him to wince once more. Oddly enough, he was actually kind of comfortable...despite the sharp pains all over the place. "It's alright. I'm still surprised...and grateful...that you've done this much."

"All I'm sayin' is, if you pass out, we'll be sleepin' at the end of this alley, 'cause that's as far as I could get ya," Relic laughed, pulling out a shirt and looking it over. "And, well, you better be grateful, I wouldn't do this for just anybody. Don't let it go to your head, though."

Damn, she hated to rip this shirt. It was such a nice shirt, and she really... wait, whose shirt was this? This wasn't hers, either! Damnit, whose clothes had she grabbed in her rage? Honestly. Oh well, she shrugged, beginning to rip pieces off to be make-shift bandages.

"Don't worry...it won't. Now, if you could just make me a cup of coffee and get me a nice pastry, that would be great," he teased her, smiling, the cuts in his lip opening once more. "You really shouldn't tear up your clothes like that..." he added, as he watched her tear one in half.

"I'll let that slide, considerin' the pain you're gonna be in, in about a minute," she shook her head, laughing slightly. "And, I'm doing this for you," she said, continuing her ripping spree. Of course, the fact that these clothes weren't, apparently, hers, might have made the decision slightly easier.

She sobered when she finished ripping, however, and looked at how she could do this. Deciding reaching over him to tie these 'bandages' was unacceptable; she slid her bag under his head, moving over to his side. Either way, the whole scene wouldn't look good to passersby, but at least she could deal with it this way without her face almost throbbing from blushing.

"I'm not so good at this," she warned, frowning, "So you should probably hold onto something, you know, for the pain?" With that warning, she began to wrap the damaged area, doing her best not to hurt him, but, true to her word, more than a bit clumsy on a few occasions.

He adjusted in the new position she set him in, his breathing once more becoming difficult because of the pain in his ribs. Grabbing whatever was nearby, a filthy ripped towel from God knows where, he put it in his hands and twisted each time the pain became hard to bear. Closing his eyes tightly, waiting for her to finish, he resisted the urge to cry out.

She finished quickly, tying the last knot as delicately as she could. Looking up at him, she winced at the look of pain on his face.

"Hey, I'm done," she whispered, prying the rag out of his hands and tossing it away. Pulling down his shirt, she gave him a small smile. "So which was worse; the beatin', or that bandagin' job I just did?"

"Well, considering you did the bandaging with the goodness of your heart, and yes...there is goodness in your heart if you are bothering bandaging the likes of me up...then the beating…and I owe you a shirt…"

If she hadn't been so unaccustomed to swelling with pride in herself, she might not have been able to hide it so well. Must be all the damn blood he lost, she thought to herself, causing her to smirk.

"I'm glad. Look, you need to get back to the lodging house, they'll be able to take care of you better. Whenever you're... you know, ready, to go, just say so."

Truth be told, she'd stay in this alley forever if she could. Leaving it meant decisions she wasn't quite sure about, choices that she didn't want to make. Here, even with Dusk in his current condition, everything felt... safe. A warm smile slid across her face for a moment, before she managed to beat it off; damn stress of the night was making her soft.

"What are you smirking at? You look like you're up to something and, I have to say, in my current state thats none too encouraging," he said, smirking back.

"Ready as I'll ever be...I guess," Dusk added, not really comfortable at having to curl up with his broken ribs in order to get up. Trying to rise, a sharp pain hit throughout his body causing him immediately to lie back down. "Then again, maybe I lied."

"Maybe not for you," she replied, her wicked smirk growing. "'Sides, I ain't up to anything. For once. I was just thinkin' that maybe you shouldn't say anything; you lost a lot of blood, think it's starting to go to your head. Well, and I might have been thinking about how I might have to tell people that we got in a fight, you know, when they ask what happened to you."

"I'm fine...like you said, I bleed like I got a leak, so there's plenty more to take its place. And…fine, but only if you take my brass knuckles and a lead pipe with you to back you up," he said with a grin.

"What, you don't think people'll believe I did it with just my own two hands?" she smirked, looking mock-upset.

"Those two hands? Do this? Well, you are optimistic, aren't you?" he teased her.

"Hey, I'm a newsie. I live on false hope. Besides, it could happen." She laughed slightly, unable to keep a straight face at that statement. However, as he tried to rise once more, the pain caused him to grow a bit more serious, obviously still not prepared to compromise any comfort he may be in, let alone walk back to the lodging house.

"We can stay 'til your ready, so don't you go pushin' yourself," she said immediately, careful to keep her face from betraying any of her previous thoughts. "You comfortable? There anythin' I can do?"

She almost laughed, hoping he wouldn't worry at her sudden bout of helpfulness. Truth be told, she was starting to feel guilty; he wouldn't be like this if it weren't for her, and though she didn't regret telling him what it took to do this, she did regret that for all he went through, the chances of her doing her part were slim. So, best to do what she could while she could, hopefully to make up for later.

"I'm just trying to figure out a way to get up without moving my abdomen much. You're fine, don't worry about it. I don't think I can get too much more comfortable."

Her smile faded for a moment. He would figure out a way to get up soon, she was sure, and when he did, they would have to leave. And then she would have to leave. She knew the time would come soon, but why did it have to come so soon? Damnit. As quickly as the smile had gone, she replaced it with a brighter one, determined to hide all the thoughts running through her now-throbbing head.

"Now I know you're up to something. You look confused," he said, watching her change emotions back and forth. What in the hell was on her mind?...

"It's nothing," she shook her head. Giving him a worried glance as he stood up, she raised an eyebrow. "Just focus on somethin' else, and move quick," she said. Granted, she was pretty sure moving quick would be just as painful for him as moving slow, but damnit, he was forcing her to leave the safe place and rush back out to the world.

Nodding, none to pleased with the idea of even trying to get up, he closed his eyes and heaved himself up as fast as he could. Almost ready to pass out from the rush of blood and the blinding pain, he had to lean against the wall to catch his breath.

"You okay?" she asked, concerned, forgetting her own misery for a moment and replacing it with thoughts of his.

"I'll be fine," Dusk breathed out, trying to make the sharp pain in his sides die down. He dreaded the half hour walk to the lodging house, the walk up the stairs...the looks of the others. "I'm not looking forward to this..." he added, sure she wasn't either.

"It'll be okay," she smiled, trying to seem as reassuring as possible, despite his echoing of her own thoughts. "If you need any help walkin', just lean on me. I'm sturdier than I look," she said, frowning.

"Odd that you're the one telling me that, isn't it?" he asked, giving her a look. He knew she was looking forward to it a hell of a lot less than he was. Maybe she was just trying to tell herself..."Sturdy or not, I'm heavy. If I start to break you, let me know," he said, though still trying to support himself as much as he could.

She shifted uncomfortably under his scrutinous look. "It's true." For you. Putting on a smirk, she added, "'Sides, you look like you need encouragement a little bit more than I do, don't ya think?"

"Maybe just a little," he said with a weak smile. She needed just as much as he did, to be honest, if not more. This was her side of the deal, and he could tell, despite the smiles, that she was none to happy about it.

"What are you gonna do now, with your nights? Start actually sleepin'?" Relic asked, trying to keep her mind more on his situation rather than her own. Focusing on him was so much easier, at least for her, at the moment.

"Probably raid the girls' bunkroom," Dusk said with a smirk. "Nah...I don't know...maybe Ill try actually being a newsie and sell in the morning like everyone else." However, the thought didn't hold as much joy as he would have liked.

She flushed, shaking her head, but recovered quickly. "You better be careful. Some 'a the gals might like that too much." Smirking, she nodded. "Good luck with that. I think you'll like the mornin' edition."

Like it as he'd liked the beating he just received, she was sure, but why dash all hopes right now? Instead, she just smiled. "You know, if I didn't see it with my own eyes, I'd almost swear you can't be the same guy that clocked me back there. Even without all the bruises. You're a hard one to figure, that's for sure."

I'd never hurt a lady!" he started out, jokingly, before he looked down, unsure of how to respond seriously. "I stay like this usually. Well, more quiet and to myself...but, the more I care about someone, the more emotionally involved I get. That also included negative emotion. It takes a lot for me to lash out, but if you press the right buttons, I...I'm ashamed of the way I can get."

"I think I should be offended by that statement," she laughed. "But somehow, I don't think nothin' would stop you from givin' someone what they deserved. At least a little bit, anyway."

Shrugging, she looked down the road, always at a loss for words when it came to statements about feelings. "I... Well... I like this side of ya better, personally. But, I don't know, seems like it takes a lot for you to get... there..." Not that she knew, exactly, what it took to get him there, since she seemed to have stumbled on it rather quickly. "It's not so bad. I've known some guys that are worse than I've seen you, on their best days."

"So you think you deserved what I gave you?" he asked, smile fading. In his own mind, he wasn't so sure.

He shrugged, not too keen on the conversation at hand. "Just never say anything about my mother, father, or even sister, and just stay away from the religion for good measure," he said, trying to give at least her fair warning.

"Hey, come on now," she said, noticing the change in his tone almost immediately. She needed things to stay light, cheerful, or else her mind would turn back to those same thoughts that got her out in this dark night in the first place. Countering quickly, she grinned. "You think you deserved what I gave you?"

"I'll do my best…about, ya know…not saying anything about any of that," she nodded, though she knew better than to promise anything. Her temper was damn unpredictable, even to her. Of course, that could be the root of many of her problems... "So how are you gonna afford all these damn cigarettes, now that you'll only be selling papers?"

"Well, there's still the betting, isn't there? Unless I'm supposed to swear that off to," he wondered, somewhat terrified of what she might say. What was so wrong with betting against idiot drunks? No harm no foul, right?

"That's true, still got the betting," she nodded, before frowning. "You were bringing in a lot of money, why the hell did you even sell the evening edition?"

"Because it was steady. I could go two weeks without someone needing me for something. If I didn't have some income coming in, I'd starve. It was just back up, something I started with when I was a kid and haven't let go of."

"What'd you used to do, when you were younger? You didn't still do this kind of stuff for the gangs, did you?" she asked, now curious. There was something intriguing about his past, when he spoke of it.

"Not at first. I lived with my father, went to school, and sold the evening edition. A little after my mother died, though, I started running errands for the gangs. They wanted me to go to certain places, delivering things from one leader to another. Things like that. That's really how it started...how long I've been doing it," he answered honestly. There was something oddly therapeutic about telling her all this.

"So you were a schoolboy, huh?" she laughed at the thought. "How old were you, when you started?" As she reviewed his story in her head, she couldn't help but bombard him with yet another question. "How'd you get caught up with those guys, anyway?"

"Yeah, a good little school boy. Oddly enough, when we were little, Satire was the bad one in the outfit. Saint wasn't too proper either, but Sat had him beat. I started when I was about eleven though, out of anger. When my mother died, I shut down, really. When a kid at school said something about me being a dirty Jew, I beat the hell out of him in broad daylight. Go figure, one of the members saw me and told him about me. See, they use kids to run their errands, looks more innocent that way, and what cop is going to stop a child for smuggling goods and whatnot?"

"You guys are sure different now," she chuckled, but nodded all the same. "I can see Satire being the bad one; he's still got a little left in him, I think."

She flushed as he spoke of beating the other child up, remembering in the recent-past when she had said similar things to him. "Your mom... if she'd lived, where do you think you'd be, right now?" Her questioning was going too far, she knew, but they were almost back to the lodging house; besides, she had to know what he would've done, where he'd be if he hadn't gotten lost in the black hole that this sort of life was.

"I'd probably be finished with school this past month, helping my sister through her own schooling. We named her, you know, my dad and I. Couldn't bury her without giving her a name. Arella Oksana Sarai Samson. I gave her Arella, means angel, and he gave her Sarai...my princess...Oksana was a name my mother always liked from her Romanian background" he said, kind of dazing off before shaking his head awake once more.

If she hadn't been helping support him, and lacking pockets, this would have been where she jammed her fists into her pockets and looked away uncomfortably. "You named her? That's so..." Sensitive. A word she wasn't used to using to describe men she knew from the streets. "We're almost there," she said quickly, thankful for the interruption as the lodging house came into view.

"Yeah...I didn't want to go through life calling her my sister and that's it...my dad wanted to give her a name too. So, that's what she ended up with. Anyway...you ready for this? Or...do you just want to spend the night on the roof? It feels good out, and I can go in and get a blanket."

"She needed a name," Relic nodded firmly, before looking up at the big building that had been her home for so long now and frowning. Was she ready? No. She was pretty sure she wouldn't ever be. "You think you can make it in there to grab a blanket without passin' out?"

"Yeah, I think I can manage...not the running in part, but the going to get a blanket part might work. Just...promise me you'll stay put."

"I'll stay here." She'd feel bad with leaving him in the shape he was in, without saying goodbye, at least. But once he came back... she gave him her best smile and motioned toward the door.

Nodding at her, smiling, Dusk made his way...slowly...to the door and inside, rumaging through the closets to find a spare blanket while keeping a lookout for the others. He didnt want to be seen...especially not like this. After spotting a worn, but usable, blanket in a second floor closet, he made his way gingerly down the stairs and back outside. "Got it," he said, with a triumphant smile.

She looked at the smile on his face and laughed. "Good job." Now was time for the let down. Fidgeting, she looked down at her shoes. "Look, Dusk, I... uh... well, you see, it's like this..." Where the hell was her planned out spiel about doing good for the lodging house, needing to go, all of it? Damnit!

"What?" he asked, the smile on his face fading, his stomach dropping. This couldn't be good...

The look on his face was enough to make her chest inexplicably hurt, but she ignored it as best she could. "I can't stay here. I know I said I could, and I want to, I do, but I can't. I just... wanted you to do your part, you know, before I left. I'm sorry."

Dusk didn't know what to do...for the first time, he was at a loss for words. He felt his chest empty of...something…whatever it was, it left a painful void. He sat down on the sidewalk, refusing to look at her. He was so confused, so angry, so depressed. His ever limp ached, his ribs were killing him, and she had to nerve to lie to him. "I can't believe you," was all he said, or whispered, still looking at the ground in front of him.

"I'm sorry!" Frustrated, she kicked the ground. She should have just left when he went to get the blanket, damnit. Goodbyes weren't her thing, at all. "I have to leave." He had to understand; she needed him to understand, or at least be something other than sad, damnit. Angry she could take, but sad was a different story. "I can't... undo, what I've done. Being here anymore would just make it worse, add new screw ups."

"If I went by the same logic you did, I'd have to leave New York. Stay. Please. I have dealt with more shit in this place in the last several weeks and, oddly enough, you're one of the reasons I haven't killed someone or myself yet. What is wrong with trying to make amends? With at least trying to stay and see what happens with whoever you hurt. If they're still breathing, then it's not as bad as it is in your head," he said, looking straight in her eyes. Maybe it was the painful dizziness, but he needed to tell her all this.

She hugged herself, trying to fend off the cold that wasn't really there. This whole thing, this made her cold. "I'm not worth the trouble it's takin' you to talk to me," she managed at last. "Believe me, damnit. You'd manage in this place just fine, with or without me around." Frowning, she fidgeted again, growing more agitated. She had to say goodbye, to get his... closure, at least, for some damn reason. "Just say 'bye, will you?"

"If you weren't then why did I just change my entire lifestyle in the span of an hour for you? Just to make a deal with you? Huh?" he asked, or interogated. He was getting frustrated out of betrayal and the depression that came with. "No...I'm not giving you that. You gave me your word and took it back, why should I give you this?"

"I don't know why you did it! It was your damn idea! I told you to just leave me alone!" she snapped, dropping her arms down to her side and balling her hands into tight fists. "Fine! Don't, I don't care!" Yeah, right. She didn't even believe that statement. "I didn't want to break my word, okay? But you looked so ready to follow through, and you hated that gang so much... I just wanted to do something good, for you, before I took off."

"I don't want to just leave you alone, damn it. I avoid Pomp, Filly, the rest of them. I don't want to avoid everyone, and certainly not you. As much as you drive me crazy at the oddest moments, you keep me sane around the rest of them," he protested...damn lack of blood making him all...share his feelings...and such..."You didn't want to break your word? You've been waiting to, damn it."

She felt her shoulders sag, that familiar feeling of defeat starting to sink in. He was being so... nice. And right. How could she just turn away from words like that? Well, pretty easily. But, she didn't. She lost or given up everyone else in the world; what could a few more minutes of having one person hurt? She'd explain to him a bit of what she'd done, make him see why she had to do this. And then, he'd, probably in disgust, let her leave. But for a few minutes, she could pretend that she belonged with this sort of companionship.

"I didn't want to disappoint you," she said slowly, tentatively taking a seat next to him. She felt better, sitting with him. Less...edgy than usual.

"Whether you wanted to or not, you have," he said sadly, honestly. Sighing, he shook his head, still trying to grasp it. "What is so bad that I can do what I just did...but you can't even try to make up with whoever you did whatever to?"

"I... guess I have," she nodded, looking at the ground. That sure didn't feel good to admit.

She shrugged, but tucked her arms around her quickly drawn-up knees and rested her chin upon them. "Because you'll be better for it. I'd just be selfish. Even if I made up with him, which I can't do since I ain't sorry, I'd just do it again, to someone else. Maybe you."

"Relic, people hurt people, whether its to their face or behind their back. Trust me, Satire and I have almost killed each other before, and that goes with everyone else I know. God knows, if I told my father everything I have done since my mother died he'd keel over out of either shame or betrayal. Its natural, though. Why can't you understand that?"

"But you didn't kill him, damnit! Because you're better than that. I'm not. And I'd prove it, again, probably." She shook her head, looking away. This was supposed to be rational; no sense in losing it and getting all upset. That wouldn't help anything. "I didn't kill anybody, but I might as well have. People like me don't deserve happy endings."

Dusk got up and grabbed her, sitting her down in the place he had been sitting. "You're staying, damn it, if only to see what the hell happens. I can't keep arguing with you, and I'm not about to lose either. I don't care who you hurt or how you did it, but I'm not letting that be the end of it."

She looked at him in surprise, before muttering some rather unintelligible curse as her tailbone slammed onto the pavement. "Ow..."

"Look, you ain't in no condition to stop me, all right?" she said, though the anger behind her words had disappeared beneath the throbbing pain in her backside. "You don't know, all right? If you knew, you'd let me go, damnit. Why won't you believe me?"

"Because no matter what you say, what you've done, I know I'm worse. I know that I'm helpless, but maybe I can do something about you leaving everything and everyone. Because I don't want to believe you, damn it."

"Just 'cause you don't want to believe it doesn't mean it's not true, and I won't mess up later, damnit. If I leave, I can go clear my head, start out fresh, and everyone here can not have to worry about me screwing up their lives and making 'em miserable."

"And I didn't say helpless," she muttered, standing up and wincing at the pain in her tail bone.

Dusk stood there, at a loss for words. Leaning down, wincing at the pain in his ribs as he did so, he very quickly kissed Relic on the cheek before lightly...well...light compared to the last time...slapping her on the other. Taking the blanket, he turned to make his way up the fire escape and spend the night on the roof. He needed time to think on his own without the distractions of the bunkroom.

Standing there stunned, Relic was pretty sure there wasn't an inch of her that wasn't fast becoming bright red. Maybe her fingernails, or stubs that she deemed nails. But that was it. And not only was she embarrassed, she was confused now, too. And rooted to her damn spot. Dirty rotten scoundrel, pulling something insane like that.

She meant to say that at loud, as well. Unfortunately, all that came out was, "Uh... you're not actually going to, uh, climb that, are you?" Traitorous wretch of a tongue. Blast.

"Might as well try," he said calmly, quietly. Damn pain in his ribs...damn blood loss...he just wanted to lie down and be away from the noise that was bound to be swarming around the bunkroom at this hour.

"Can I... help? Don't want you falling off." Well, that much was slightly debatable. Having the hell embarrassed out of her was not high up on her list of enjoyable activities. She really would have just spun on her heel and left, but then there was the damn confusion. Not that she really cared; after all, she'd never see him again.

Yeah. That's why she'd just spent the whole evening trudging around Manhattan, watching him get beaten bloody, dragged him back, and now had her bag sprawled on the ground away from her. Damnit, now her mind was beginning to start the wicked traitorous habits her tongue had introduced. Useless things, all of them.

"You want to leave, I'm letting you. If you need to go, despite everything I say, then go. Don't worry about me, you've done enough of that already," he said, not looking at her as he continued his way up.

"You... you're..." Completely right. And letting her go. Of which she should be thankful. So why weren't her damn feet moving?

Damnit. He sucked all the fun out of leaving; that must be it. Damn him. Picking up the nearest pebble, she chucked it at him as hard as she could. That was for the embarrassment, jerk. A triumphant grin flashed across her face.

As it hit one of his...hundreds...of bruises, he winced and looked at her like she was crazy. "What the hell was that for?"

"That was for that... that... assault, you just did!" she snapped, almost wanting to throw another one to cover up her lack of verbal skills. "And for just... everything! Damnit, I need to leave, and you with all your 'sense' and 'rational talk', you're making things difficult! Why couldn't you just have shut up when I first asked you to? Damnit!" This time, she did throw another pebble. Frustrating male.

Trying to dodge it, the pain of moving hit his ribs sharply, he called down. "What assault? I slapped you before and you never threw shit at me. And, I let you go. What do you want?"

That's because I was afraid you'd do it again, of course. You're not so terrifying when you look like you just got jumped by a big stick, she thought, before opening her mouth once more. "That's not what I meant. And I want... I want to not have met you! That's what I want!" Oops. That sounded a little better in her head. At least, the brief second before it ran out of her mouth, it did. "I mean... I need to go. But now I want to stay. Do you see what you did?"

He tried to run over what she said...what? She...he...they...the...what? "What? Look, I dont know what assault you mean or what the hell I just did by letting you go, so would you mind clearing it up for me?" Before I pass out from standing too long...

Cringing, she glanced up at him. He wasn't going to make her say it, was he? He couldn't be that damn dense! ... stupid men. "That inappropriate affection assault, damnit!" She blinked, trying to remember if that was what the bulls had called it. She couldn't quite remember, though that might have had something to do with the fact that at the time, she was being held by one of them by the ear and was busy looking for an escape route.

What did she mean? She had no idea. "Just get up on the damn roof," she said, grabbing her bag and heading for the fire escape. "I'll be right behind you if you start to fall. Not that it'll do much good, but there's always the chance that I could break your fall, or something." There she went, being nice again. Damnit.

"What? That little kiss thing? I didn't know what to tell you so I figured I might as well do something to show how I feel...that I both like you and can't stand you all at once..." Shaking his head, he made his way up, both confused by her actions and relieved. He finally made it to the roof, turning to watch for her. He really didn't get this girl...

"Just make sure it doesn't happen again," she called, before pulling herself up onto the roof. Home, sweet home. "I really like it, here," she stated, making her way over to him and pausing, looking up at the sky.

"Then why do you want to run so badly," he asked, looking at her instead of the sky, opting not to acknowledge her other comment. He couldn't promise anything wouldn't happen again.

I already told you!" she snapped, looking away from the stars in order to narrow her eyes at him. "I'm tryin' to do what's best, here. I know, I know, I could try and make up what happened today, but what about tomorrow?"

She shook her head. "I want to do the right thing. But," and she looked away for this statement, "there are some good things here. I don't know that I can leave it now. Lost my damn nerve, coming back here. Thanks to you, you bum."

"I'd apologize aside from the fact that I'm not sorry in the least. At this point, I don't have much faith in you doing anything tomorrow, but I'm happy to see you at least willing to spend the night on the damn lodging house, even if its not in it," he said, taking his shirt off and folding it up.

"You shouldn't have much faith, I never promised nothing about tomorrow," she said rigidly, his words stinging a bit more than she would have liked. Eyes widening as he pulled the garment off, she whirled away from him. "Is there some reason you're gettin' naked in my presence?" she called over her shoulder, crossing her arms.

He ignored her first comment once more. He didn't want to get angry with her, not any more than he was right now. "Because I, or you, one of us needs a pillow. Since I'm in now hurry to go inside looking like this, and I know hell will freeze over before you do, it's the best we got."

"You do, you're the wounded one," she sighed, before slipping off her over shirt and handing it to him. "Have two, one's 'bout worthless." She frowned, crossing her arms again and turning around to face him.

"You need something to lay your head on, even if it's to keep your head from scraping on the concrete," he said softly, slightly embarrassed by her over shirt being off.

"I can use my bag," she shrugged. Never mind the fact that it was half-filled with letters and other not-so-soft objects. Seeing the way he was looking at her, she crossed her arms tighter, looking slightly defensive. "Look, if you don't want the damn shirt, it's fine..."

"No, its fine, I'll use it..." he said, blushing again, thankful that she could barely see his face. "You can have the blanket then...I didn't really think about bringing two," he said, shrugging, which was helped by the amount of pain he had been in at the time, and was still in.

"All right," she said, though couldn't help a half-grin. Throwing the shirt back in her face would have been upsetting, to say the least. "Nah," she shook her head, frowning. "You just got the hell beat out of you, don't need you gettin' sick, too. If I'd needed one, I would've asked you to bring another."

At seeing her grin, he followed suit, though wasn't sure why...damn loss of blood. That was his excuse, damn it! "I don't want you sleeping without one, so its either you take it or Ill climb back down and get one."

Relic rolled her eyes at his statement, but couldn't help smiling. "You know, even if I do take this, I'm just gonna put it on you once you've fallen asleep. And I'm not gonna let you kill yourself tryin' to climb back down and get another one. So just take it."

"And then I'll wake up in the middle of the night and put it on you. It'd be too much to say to share it, considering you'd probably kick me and say you did it in your sleep," he said, smirking. Damn this woman was an emotional trip.

"Not to mention someone would come up here, see us, and I'd be known as the biggest slut in the lodging house by morning," she smirked, shaking her head. "Of course, you'd get nothin' but a big pat on the back."

"Alright, fine...I'll get the blanket...put you put my shirt on...its big enough to cover you...at least...more than your shirt would."

"All right, all right," she sighed, holding out a hand. "But don't this take away from the whole idea of you havin' enough fabric for a decent pillow?"

"Oh just hush and take it before I knock you out and put it on you."

"I will, just because you'd like that too much," she retorted, slipping the shirt on and heading over by the hatch, to her usual sleeping spot.

With that smart comment of hers, he perked up a bit more. Finding a small rock on the roof nearby as he laid down, he threw it her way. "Wench," he said quietly.

"Ouch!" she hollered, as the unsuspected rock hit its target. Rolling over to look at him, she frowned. "You bum. Didn't nobody ever tell you that throwin' rocks was rude?" Never mind what she had done earlier…her actions never counted as rude in her own mind.

"That's rich coming from you, one-shot," he said with a chuckle.

Looking mock-offended, she rolled away from him again, tucking the shirt closer to her. "I don't know what you're," Yawn. "Talking about. I don't gotta take your crazy accusations. I'm going to sleep."

The silence lasted a few moments, at least. Impressive, really. "Dusk?" she called quietly, otherwise unmoving.

"Yes?" he asked, curious if she wanted something or just wanted to check and see if he was still awake.

She did so hate those minutes before she fell asleep, where she was vulnerable to the world. She supposed everyone was, a little bit, as they let their defenses sink in order to let sleep in. But that didn't make it feel any less awkward. Nonetheless, she couldn't sleep until this little detail was fixed. "I'm cold, now."

Dusk got up and moved over to her, putting his make shift pillow a foot away from her head and laying back down, throwing the blanket over the both of them. "Slut or not, I'm not about to die and I'm certainly not letting you freeze," he said, putting his head back down. "You alright?"

She muttered something about "just asking for the damn blanket..." but didn't make any other comments. He was emanating warmth, after all, and it was a surprisingly chilly night for July. Instead she pulled off his shirt and handed it to him. "I'm fine. Here, go 'head and use this. It's got your blood on it, anyway. Kind of weirdin' me out.

Taking advantage of being a foot away, he flicked her in the arm upon hearing her. "Just trying to help without being completely selfless." He took his blood stained shirt and folded it up under his head. The idea of moving around to put it on sicked him at the moment.

She reached over to slap his arm back instictively, not paying attention to the fact that her arms were shorter, and managed to roll off her bag. "Ouch..." she muttered, rubbing her head. Little pains seemed to be her thing this night.

Letting out a soft "ow" before giving her a face he knew she probably wouldn't see, he tried to keep from laughing as she rolled off her bag. "You alright?"

"I'm fine," she muttered, rubbing her head one last time. Damn, the roof was hard.

Unsure of whether or not he should do anything..rub her head...something...he decided against it. He was close enough to her already to add strange touchy things to it. "Try to make you comfortable and you go and get yourself even more hurt…" he teased instead.

"You just want to ruin my reputation, that's what you want," she grumbled, though mostly joking (the other bit was spite from her stinging head).

"As much as I would like to say that's my intention, I'm pretty sure the kids in there know better than to spread rumors...and should they know one of us could tear them apart with our teeth. I wouldn't worry."

Mulling this thought over for a moment, she nodded, edging closer to the boy. People shouldn't be allowed to be so warm when others were so cold, damnit. "I guess. Yeah, that's true. Besides, I can always say we were jumped an' dumped up here." Nothing if not creative, that was a newsie.

"At least we both kind of look it, though, I do have to say...whoever jumped us sure liked you better," he said with a grin.

"I'm more... person-," Yawn. "Personable. And I'm prettier."

Satisfied, she smirked, shoving her bag out of the way (something damn sharp was poking out, she was sure she didn't want to know what) and using her arms as a makeshift pillow. She was warm, now, and thus, content. Glancing up at him once more before shutting her eyes, she burrowed deeper into the blanket and her arms. "You know, in the morning, it's gonna be time to put iodine on those scrapes and re-wrap the ribs," she said absently.

"Prettier, sure...but I'm not so sure about personab-" he stopped yawning so hard his body shook, "able." Groaning at the thought of iodine and rewrapping, the childish (or male) side of him wanted to throw a fit...but he was much too tired.

"Oh, I am." Not that she was entirely sure what the word meant, but whatever it meant, she was sure she was more so. "Night, Dusk. If I kick you... well, it was an accident." She had to snicker slightly at that. Accident? Yeah right.


End file.
